


Start at the Beginning

by DontOffendTheBees



Series: The Importance Of Being Idle [1]
Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Big Bang Challenge, Domestic, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Humor, Light Angst, Light-Hearted, Pre-Relationship, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Smoking, Strangers, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 01:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 61,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11567637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontOffendTheBees/pseuds/DontOffendTheBees
Summary: ”Y’know, make it up. Pretend to be in a relationship with someone. Can’t be that hard to fake, right?” it was still a stupid idea, but Todd was actually pretty invested in it now. He leaned forward, folding his arms. “C’mon, think about it- you got any other desperate homeless friends?”Yellow sat up fully, glancing between Todd and the paper. The storm clouds parted, and the sunniest smile Todd had ever seen broke across his face. “Well, now that you mention it, one fellowdoesspring to mind…”Todd meets Dirk when both are homeless and stuck in a rut- Todd fresh out of the band, Dirk fresh out of England- and find the perfect apartment. The catch? It’s professional couple only. Dirk proposes a ruse, and Todd’s too desperate to be picky. With the help of their friends- Farah, Todd’s trigger-happy ex-crush from college; Bart, Dirk’s terrifying ex-bodyguard from boarding school; Ken, the mysterious computer guy downstairs- they must keep their landlady Amanda Mandelbrot believing the lie, and learn to navigate the wonderful world of being ‘independent adults’.What could go wrong?





	1. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Todd's rotten luck takes an unexpected turn.
> 
> WARNINGS: swearing, ableist language (canon-typical), quarter-life crisis angst. REFERENCES TO: guns/weapons, violence, sex/masturbation, drugs, bullying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo there! Well, this is it, three months in the making (kinda) and here we are- THE BIG BANG!
> 
> So, this story is based on and modeled around the TV show ‘Spaced’, but you do NOT have to know the show to enjoy the story at all (although it’s a fab old show and well worth a watch one of these days if you fancy some classic Wright, Pegg and Frost)! I’m just borrowing some premise and plots ;) I’ve tried to make it recognisably Dirk-ish, though!
> 
> You may have noticed, also, that I’ve labeled this as part one of a series. Yes, I will be continuing this story sometime- but no, I’m not leaving this one on any kind of cliffhanger! This story can be read perfectly well as a stand-alone, and I’m hoping the ending is satisfactory until I can hollow out some time to write part 2!
> 
> I’ve split this fic into 10 chapters for ease of reading, but the chapters come in pairs- so chapter one and two are basically part of the same episode, as are three and four, etc. I’ll not be giving you any more big note dumps between chapters though, since they’re all going up at once! I'll put individual chapter warnings in the notes though.
> 
> This chapter’s mostly from Todd’s POV, but it’ll switch around a bit more in future chapters. We’re gonna stick to Dirk and Todd POVs for the first couple of chapters and work up to snippets of the others!
> 
> Pairings wise, we’re looking at: obvious Brotzly (well, obvious to everyone except them- this is gonna be SLOW BURN folks, like, REALLY slow-burn), eventually some background Faranda, probably implied poly Rowdies and ambiguous BartxKen. But I’m just gonna say right now: part one is NOT the romance arc! Yes, there’s gonna be subtext (HEAVY subtext- I’m about as subtle as a brick, hence why I’m still tagging this as Brotzly, ‘cuz it IS) and some feelings might slowly start to surface, but part one is really more about Dirk and Todd’s personal arcs, learning to live with themselves and also each other as friends/roommates/pretend boyfriends. They’re both dummies who’re gonna take a long time to really come to grips with their feelings, and that’s the part 2 arc! But not to worry- though there’s no explicit romance in part one, there’s domestic fluff and shenanigans in abundance! Hopefully enough to keep your interest at any rate ^_^
> 
> So yeah, make yourself a cup of tea or coffee or cocoa or really any hot beverage that takes your fancy this fine morning/afternoon/evening/2am guilty pleasure reading sesh, and buckle in for fluff, humour, daring dog rescues, epic paintball showdowns and gratuitous quarter-life crises.
> 
> If you want some music while listening to this, might I recommend this playlist of [music from the original TV series](https://open.spotify.com/user/johnnypistachio/playlist/069k1wtDLilk0bL02UoLe7), it's not essential but it might help you get in that Spaced vibe ^_^
> 
> And while you’re at it, hop over to tumblr and check out the [BEAUTIFUL ART FOR THIS FIC BY BEARAIIN BECAUSE IT’S AMAZING MMMKAY](http://bearaiin.tumblr.com/post/163296742343/scuse-me-is-this-seat-taken-the-voice). Been great working with you my dear- thanks for bringing these guys to life! <3 (I've also heard tell that there's gonna be MORE bonus drawings soon, so keep an eye on their blog! I will put links to all the art in the chapters as it crops up though ^_^)
> 
> Enjoy! <3

**January**

Coffee wasn’t usually Todd’s coping drink for bad news. But he figured ten in the morning was a little early to hit the beer, even for him.

He really, _really_ wished he could say he had a _nice_ reason for sitting in this crappy diner with his beat-up guitar propped at his side; like he was just on his way to band practice and needed the caffeine boost. But he’d be lying.

Truth was, half an hour ago he’d had the door to their practice venue (AKA the garage) slammed in his face for the last time. Yeah, sure, it was his own _stupid_ fault, but it still stung. And then, to rub salt in the wound, they’d gone and invited his replacement- a pretentious dick with a fur coat and a god complex- to take his place in the band _and_ the house. Leaving Todd well and fucking truly hung out to dry. So now here he was; out of the band, out of the house, and out of a _job_ if he couldn’t find someplace to live. Right now his best option was the record store’s upstairs storage room, and Dorian would kick him to the curb if he found him squatting there.

Basically, his life was fucking terrific.

He took a sip of his coffee. Worst he’d ever tasted. Seemed about right.

“‘Scuse me, is this seat taken?”

The voice alone was enough to catch his attention; he didn’t hear British accents round here much. The fact that it was talking to _him_ was even more confusing. He wished he’d braced himself before looking up- the sunlight on the guy’s jacket all but blinded him. God, when did it even _get_ so sunny? He must have been wallowing in self-pity when the clouds had parted.

“Uh,” Todd mumbled, glancing around the diner. The place had filled up since he’d walked in. It looked like his booth had just about the only free spaces up for grabs. He didn’t want company, but he was too exhausted to lie about expecting his friends. It was too depressingly far from the truth, anyway. “No, go ahead.”

The guy gave him a smile that was _way_ too enormous for ten a.m. on the worst Sunday of Todd’s life. “Thanks!” he said, sliding in opposite and setting down his drink of… something. Todd couldn’t even tell what it was under the enormous mountain of whipped cream. The guy thrust his hand out across the table. “Hi there!”

 _Is this really a handshake situation?_ “Um,” he said, awkwardly returning the gesture. He was still totally weirded out, but he figured it’d be rude to stiff the guy. “Hi.”

“Lovely day!” said the man, sounding like he actually meant it. What the fuck. Why was he so _happy?_ Was he high? He didn’t seem to be expecting an answer, though. He was too busy whipping a newspaper out from his canary-yellow jacket and spreading it open across the entire table.

Todd returned to his coffee, determined to ignore his new drinking buddy as much as possible.

But that proved difficult when said drinking buddy kept making _noises._ These included thoughtful hums, disappointed _tsks,_ and one instance of muttering _‘not bloody likely’_ under his breath.

He glanced over in frustration, and noticed the paper was open on the personal ads page. He'd promised himself that he _wouldn’t_ engage with the crazy person who’d insinuated himself into his wallowing time. But morbid curiosity enticed him to ask: “What’re you looking for?”

Yellow Jacket looked at him, apparently startled to have been spoken to, and… blushed? “Oh! No, thank you, sorry, I’m afraid I don’t do- well, okay, no, that’s a lie, I’ve done it with friends and suchlike, but I’ve not got the money or inclination myself at the moment-”

“Uhh,” Todd cut into his little ramble, feeling like he’d missed something. “I… meant what are you looking for in the paper?”

Yellow Jacket exhaled on a little laugh, face bright once more. “ _Oh_ , yes! Sorry, I thought you were a drug dealer!”

Todd’s immediate impulse was to be offended, and he opened his mouth to say so. Then he remembered that he was hunched over, alone, nursing a pity-coffee, red-eyed and scruffy and basically looking shifty as fuck. He was… only a little less offended. ”Thanks,” he muttered.

“I just moved here,” said Yellow Jacket, either oblivious to or ignoring Todd’s sarcasm. “Well, not _just_ \- I arrived about three weeks ago. It was all very exciting at the time, but of course I got a little _too_ caught up in the momentum. Didn’t realise until I’d got here that I didn’t actually have anywhere to _live_ yet! Which is… quite common for me, actually. I do a lot of things without thinking about it, and then later I’m like:” he pulled a face that was gone a bit too quickly for Todd to fully interpret. “It’s worked out alright, though! I have a friend who lives round here. Except she doesn’t _exactly_ live round here, you see. She doesn’t live round _anywhere_ , in fact, she tends to just sleep in her car and move it when she feels like it. Which is fine for some, I suppose, not to criticise her lifestyle. But she’s a great deal shorter than me and there’s not an awful lot of legroom in that thing…”

Todd could feel a headache coming on. “Skip to the end?”

“-So, I’m house-hunting!” he obliged, gesturing to the open paper. “Well, not _house-_ hunting, per se. The chances of finding an entire _house_ on my budget are probably a little bit not good. A flat’s more likely. Or perhaps a small broom cupboard.”

Todd couldn’t help a little snort of laughter- the guy’s blunt honesty was kind of disarming, and maybe not in a totally bad way. The word vomit, on the other hand, was exhausting. “Well, good luck,” he said, thinking it was about time to shut this weird conversation down. “Apartment hunting sucks. I don’t envy you.”

Yellow Jacket smiled and turned his attention back to the paper. Todd went back to his coffee.

It took a few moments of comfortable-ish silence for the events of the morning to come creeping back to him. Somehow in all the bizarre conversation, his looming homelessness had slipped his mind. He groaned, Yellow Jacket looking at him curiously.

“I…” Todd scowled down at the newspaper. “May need to borrow that.”

 

* * *

 

**One Sleepless Night On A Storeroom Floor Later**

 

Headache-inducing babble aside, Yellow Jacket wasn’t all _that_ difficult to get along with. He happily helped Todd circle listings for single-bedrooms and flatshares, and sent him away with numbers scrawled all up his arm. Plus a sunny (and slightly manic) smile of encouragement. None of the phone calls amounted to anything, but it was nice of the guy to try. Kind of felt like he was the only person in the _world_ trying to help Todd out right now.

Maybe that’s what possessed Todd to go back to the diner same time next morning. After his first uncomfortable night on the storeroom floor, he could really do with seeing a friendly (if annoying) face.

He hadn’t even been sure Yellow Jacket would show when he walked in, but there he was. Sitting in the same spot as yesterday, bent over the personal ads, Todd’s seat empty across from him. He was so focused on the paper that Todd went completely unnoticed as he ordered, waited for and collected his coffee. It would've been pretty easy to just sit someplace else, or even ask for the coffee to go- the guy would never be any the wiser.

And Todd gave it some _serious_ consideration as he hovered by the table, drink in hand, wondering whether he really wanted to sign himself up for more of the guy’s nonsense.

But then again, it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go. “This seat taken?”

Yellow Jacket looked up, and his face brightened. He actually looked fucking _delighted_ , as if he’d been waiting for Todd to show up. It was weird. And kinda nice. But mostly weird. “It is _now!_ Sit!”

He sat before he could second-guess himself. He put his feet up on the bench and nodded to the paper. “Find anything?”

“Not yet,” said Yellow Jacket, enthusiasm unaffected. “But it’s still early days!”

Todd nodded again, taking a sip of his terrible coffee and telling himself firmly that he was _not_ going to make a habit of this.

 

* * *

 

He made a habit of it.

 

* * *

 

**February**

 

Todd didn’t know _why_ he kept going back to the diner, but Yellow Jacket was there every single time. He stopped doubting he’d show up after about day five.

Now two weeks had passed, and they actually had a pretty comfortable routine going. Whoever showed up first bagged the same booth by the window. Todd got black coffee (still terrible). Yellow got hot chocolate with too much cream, and maybe even marshmallows if he was feeling 'a little frivolous' (his words). They took turns going through the personal ads, circling possible apartments.

As the days went on, though, they kind of started paying more attention to each other than the paper. What? It wasn’t _his_ fault- Yellow had some pretty crazy stories to tell, it was distracting! He called himself an ‘investigative journalist’. Todd figured he was probably just a guy who enjoyed poking his nose into other people’s business and then having plausible deniability. Ninety percent of the stories he told were _obviously_ complete bullshit, but that didn’t make them any less entertaining. And he seemed pretty keen to hear Todd’s stories about his band and college days, too, so between them they didn’t always get much apartment hunting done.

But sooner or later their drinks would go cold and they’d part ways, Todd with several phone numbers scrawled on the back of his hand. He’d phone them up to ask about the places. Most of them turned him down flat, saying they’d already found someone to fill the vacancy. Others let him view the place- and he left wishing he _hadn’t_. Shitholes, all of them, even by _his_ standards.

Honestly, it was starting to get on top of him. He’d never had to do anything like it before- first time he left home he’d had accommodation all fixed up by his parents and the college. As soon as he was out of there, he’d moved right in with the Mexican Funeral and pretty much let them pick up the slack. Being independent was _way_ more stressful than he’d ever given it credit for.

Which was exactly why he was weirdly grateful for Yellow. The hyperactive optimism (which, admittedly, made Todd want to punch him in the fucking teeth sometimes) was a perfect counterbalance to his own bleak outlook. Sure, his life was pretty fucking depressing right now. He was sleeping at work, getting up early to avoid Dorian, wearing the same three shirts and sneaking into the old house to shower when he knew the band would be out. But as long as it took for one or both of them to find a place, he was pretty okay with keeping this strange little give-and-take going.

Or he _was_ , until Yellow threw a spanner in the works by bursting into tears on day fifteen.

Todd was so startled he almost fell out of the booth. “Uh…”

 _“I can’t do this anymore!”_ Yellow wailed, face planted on the table, crying into the personal ads.

Todd, once he'd recovered from the initial shock, figured he'd better try and say something reassuring. “Hey, come on, it’s not _that_ bad!” Ugh, _that_ sounded wrong. He wasn't used to being the optimist at the table. He let his hand hover awkwardly over Yellow’s back for a second, before deciding they weren’t really close enough for casual touching. “‘Still early days’, right?”

“Every day I wake up and it’s the _same thing!”_ Yellow moaned, unmoved by Todd’s clumsy attempts. “I buy the paper, I sit down and circle them all, only to ring them up and find out they’ve all been taken by bloody _psychic house-hunters!”_

“Well… you’re kinda psychic or whatever too, right?” said Todd, prodding his shoulder. Okay, so he didn’t believe half the stuff in Yellow’s stories, and all the psychic crap was _definitely_ complete horseshit. But it didn’t hurt to try and comfort the guy. “Something’s gotta come along sometime.”

“I’m not _psychic_ , I’m just… intuitive,” he sniffled, looking up at Todd with big, watery eyes. “It doesn’t often help me, either. But it’s been over a _month_ , I thought by now _something_ would have…”

“Well, I’m dealing with the same shit, y’know?” said Todd, leaning on the table. “I mean, I’ve been sleeping on a storeroom floor for two weeks, but you don’t see me-” he choked up a little. Weird. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You don’t see me cry-”

He didn’t know what the fuck happened. Maybe it was looking into Yellow’s big teary eyes, or maybe it was actually vocalizing his situation out loud for the first time since it had happened. But suddenly a dam was breaking inside him and _he_ was crying too, face hidden in his hands as Yellow’s dropped back to the table.

He was glad he had his eyes closed, so he couldn’t see the way people were probably staring at them. Two grown-ass men, loudly and obnoxiously weeping in the middle of a diner.

This… was a new low.

It was a couple of minutes before either of them stopped sobbing enough to un-hide their faces. Todd self-consciously scrubbed the tears from his cheeks with his shirtsleeves, face burning with humiliation. Yellow raised his from the table, still sniffling a little, cheeks mostly dry- the newspaper had taken the brunt of the waterworks.

He was just using his tie to dab it dry a little when something he saw made him gasp. “ _Oh!_ Look, look at this one!”

Todd leaned across the table, following Yellow’s finger to the ad. “Spacious, two-bedroom apartment, fully furnished- _one-fifty a week?”_ he said, incredulous. He couldn’t believe it, that was way too fucking amazing, there had to be something- “Oh,” he muttered, heart sinking as he caught the fine print. “It says ‘professional couple only’.”

Yellow flopped back to the table and started moaning again.

Todd ignored him, staring at the ad. It _did_ seem too good to be true. But he was starting to go a little insane here- if at least _one_ of them didn’t find a place soon, he’d completely lose his mind. There must be some way around it? “Maybe you could just…” it sounded stupid even as he said it, but he’d come too far in the sentence to give up now. “...Pretend?”

Yellow sniffed and straightened up, wiping his nose on his jacket sleeve- which was blue today. He rotated out his jackets fairly regularly. Todd had to wonder where he was keeping them all. And why his own brain still seemed insistent on calling him ‘Yellow Jacket’. “What do you mean?” Yellow mumbled, despondent.

Todd shrugged.”Y’know, make it up. Pretend to be in a relationship with someone, split the rent. Can’t be that hard to fake, right?” it was still a stupid idea, but Todd was actually pretty invested in it now. He leaned forward, folding his arms. “C’mon, think about it- you got any other desperate homeless friends?”

Yellow sat up fully, glancing between Todd and the paper. The storm clouds parted, and the sunniest smile Todd had ever seen broke across his face. “Well, now that you mention it, one fellow _does_ spring to mind…”

 

* * *

 

 **Three Hours And A** **_LOT_ ** **Of Talking Later**

 

“Come on,” Yellow insisted, prodding Todd’s shoulder. “Let’s go over it one more time, just to be sure!”

“God, calm down, I know it!” said Todd, stepping out of Yellow’s jabbing radius. He was having a hard enough time getting a handle on the situation _without_ the guy constantly reminding him. The situation being that he and Yellow were talking _outside_ the diner for the first time in their fifteen-day acquaintance. And it was on their way to view an apartment together.

As a _couple_.

How the hell did he get talked into this one?!

“Are you _absolutely_ certain? Because even the _tiniest_ slip-up could give the game away!” Yellow pressed.

“I’ve listened to your life story _three times_ in the last hour,” said Todd, glowering. “I probably know it better than my own by now.”

“Alright, then prove it.”

Todd sighed, tilting his head back. It didn’t take long to dredge up the relevant information- Yellow had only been reciting it all goddamn day. “Okay, but this is the _last time._ Right:

“You were born 1991 in Reading, England- your parents are Samuel and Stephanie Gently. You were a clingy kid, and you used to get in trouble for adopting every stray cat you could find, including some that weren’t actually strays. So when you were eleven you got sent overseas to boarding school- someplace called Blackwing Academy- because it was ‘character building’. You got the shit kicked out of you pretty regularly by the other kids in first year, until you accidentally made friends with Bart Curlish- a girl from the year below and the scariest person you’ve ever met. You recently got back in touch with her and have been living in her car for five weeks.”

“Not going to lie, it’s been very tense,” said Yellow, grimly. “It’s like that film, the Lives of Pie, with the boy and the tiger in the boat. I think if I stay much longer, she just might eat me, too.”

“I don’t think that’s how the movie ended…”

“Oh, I didn’t watch through to the end. Too stressful. Now, you were saying?”

“Right. So, the other kids stopped bothering you, and you started exploring the school more. Which led to you solving your first big case, the disappearance of Richy MacDuff’s sneakers. A _thrilling_ -” he said the word dryly, but Yellow didn’t seem to notice- “case, involving an escaped zoo monkey-”

“Golden tamarin, to be exact.”

“-and Professor Cawley’s false teeth. But rather than jumping straight into a career as a detective, like you wanted, you went and studied philosophy at St. Cedd’s College, Cambridge. You were later expelled and briefly arrested, for psychically predicting upcoming test questions and selling them-”

“Hey, there was nothing _psychic_ about it!” Yellow scoffed. “It was… a lucky hunch.”

Todd figured he’d probably just stolen the exam papers, or someone gave them to him. But he wanted to get through this run-down without another debate about the legitimacy of Yellow’s ‘gift’. “But while you were there you had a letter you wrote about the mysterious comings and goings of the kitchen staff published in the student paper. Which led to the exposure of a shady underground cock-fighting ring. Naturally, you took it as a sign that you were supposed to go into investigative journalism. You haven’t been paid for a job yet, but you did get another ‘hunch’ telling you your luck would turn if you came to the States. And here you are.”

“And here I am!” Yellow agreed brightly.

“You like warm days, Marmite and Nutella on toast- hopefully not at the same time-, pop music; the catchier the better, and drinks with little umbrellas in them. Fears include small spaces, loud noises, the dark, heights, tarantulas, plastic fruit, thunder, lightning, getting accidentally stabbed in the foot with a stiletto heel- y’know what, let’s just say everything. Fears include everything.”

“Not true,” Yellow huffed, nudging Todd with his elbow. “They don’t include small, angry guitarists with worrying caffeine addictions.”

Todd rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Your turn.”

Yellow’s face lit up. “Right! My turn,” he cleared his throat. “Once more with feeling:

“You’re an only child, born in 1990 to Elijah and Doreen Brotzman of Granite Falls, Washington. You had a fairly standard childhood, you were sociable and outgoing and achieved good grades in school up until year eight-”

“Huh?”

“-Seventh grade, sorry, which is when you discovered your father’s pride and joy. His vinyl LP collection, spanning a good few decades of music- including the nineteen-seventies punk movement. Your life as you knew it changed, and what followed was four years of ripped jeans, bad dye-jobs and pretending to hate everything. But despite your best efforts to _look_ like you were too cool for homework-”

“This feels unnecessarily rude…”

“-you managed to scrape together good enough grades to go to university. You enrolled at Seattle Central College, where you began work towards a…” he looked at Todd, disbelieving. “ _Law_ degree.”

Todd shrugged. “Lawyers make money.”

“You made it a year and a half into that degree, and made lifelong friends with Farah Black- a member of campus security. She was later dismissed for excessive force against a fraternity member-”

“Okay, the guy was a _creep,_ he was stalking a friend of mi-”

“Oh, I’m not disparaging her methods,” Yellow assured him, shaking his head. “I’m sure it was well-justified. Combined with her patchy military history, however, it _was_ enough to get her fired. But she has a rather nice, stable job in private security now, and you stayed friends, so really everything worked out for the best! Anyway, you and your other friends formed a band; the confusingly named Mexican Funeral- confusing given that none of you have at any point been Mexican _or_ dead. Your grades and attendance started slipping with your increased devotion to your music, and you were threatened with expulsion on multiple occasions. So, in second year you dropped out to dedicate your time to the band, moving into a shared house with them to record your debut album. Which you’ve been in the process of recording for approximately five years.” Todd winced. “Otherwise, your body of work consists of a theme song for your drummer’s sister’s boyfriend’s podcast. You now supplement the twenty dollars you earned from that by working in a record shop.”

“Well, yeah, it sounds bad when you put it like  _that_ ,” Todd grumbled. “But I’m the assistant manager.”

“Oh, how many people work for you?”

“It’s just me and Dorian.”

“Who’s that?”

“...The manager.”

“Right. Well, anyway, back to the point- you were recently kicked out of the Mexican Funeral-”

“ _I_ split from _them,_ actually. Artistic differences.”

Yellow smirked. “Whatever keeps you sane. They replaced you with Lux DuJour, another friend of yours from college-”

“He is _not_ my friend.”

“...Another _ex_ -friend of yours from college. So, now you have a new ultimate goal in life: to find a place of your own, start a new band or solo career, and thoroughly one-up the Mexican Funeral at every turn in the charts!”

“I… never said that.”

“It was implied. I must say, I’ve always fancied learning how to play bass.”

“You’re not in my band-”

“Your _hypothetical_ band.”

“Okay, you’re not in my _hypothetical_ band.”

“ _Yet._ You hate parades, romantic comedies, any national holiday that requires you to spend extended periods of time with inebriated relatives, and you have _no_ appreciation for the musical genius of the Spice Girls.”

“Jesus.”

“And you enjoy video games, songwriting, black coffee, and masturbating to images of Siouxsie Sioux.”

Todd gaped at him, mortified. “What? I don’t- how did you-?”

“Just a hunch,” Yellow beamed. “Bingo, right again! Well, that’s the backstory covered. And no mistakes! I think I could write a book on you, now!”

“Please don’t.”

“Oh, I said I _could_ , not that I _would_ ,” he scoffed. _“I_ think you’re interesting, but I’m not sure what the demographic of that biography would be. Now, _our_ backstory- you remember it?”

“Yeah, we met nearly six years ago-”

“Five years, eight months, three days, but go on.”

Todd sighed. “Five years, eight months, three days ago. Your class was visiting the city for a talk at the Institute of Theology and Psychology. You wound up at a party at my college- one of you guys had a friend of a friend in the frat-”

“Now _there’s_ a tongue-twister!”

“-and we got drunk and hooked up. You gave me your number.”

“No, _you_ gave me _your_ number.”

“What difference does it make?”

“We have to stick to the same story, people’ll get suspicious!”

“Ugh, _fine,_ I gave you _my_ number. You only had a few days left in the States so you called me as soon as you’d recovered from the tequila shots.”

“We had the most romantic three days of our lives- you took me to dinner at the Pink Door, we went on the Great Wheel, strolled around the Pike Place market,” Yellow said, a little dreamily.

Todd narrowed his eyes. “Did you, like… Google this?”

“Of course I did,” Yellow grinned, showing Todd his phone and bringing up the search history. Todd only caught a glimpse of the top three (‘romantic date locations in seattle’, ‘what are you supposed to do on a first date’, ‘can you call a boy 20 mins after he gives you his number or is that a tad too eager’) before Yellow stashed the phone again. “We have to make it believable! Don’t worry, if anyone asks about our first date I’ll do the talking- I feel like you’re the _modest_ one in our relationship. You don’t like to let everyone see what a sweet, gooey romantic you really are, so I have to do all the gushing on your behalf.”

“And _I_ feel like _you_ have put _way_ too much thought into this.”

“Agree to disagree. Anyway, we had such a wonderful time together, _obviously_ you asked to stay in touch once I was back in England. What followed was a long-distance love affair of Jane-Austian proportions, hand-crafted love-letters and all,-”

“Lot of people just use Skype these days.”

“-culminating in me finally following my heart and returning to America to be with my one true love and start our long, happy, sexually fulfilling life together!”

Todd stared at him, eyebrows raised. “...Are you done?”

“Yes, just about.”

“Cool. Can we go look at this place before you come up with any _more_ elements to remember, please?”

“Yes, that’s probably a good idea,” Yellow agreed. His eyes widened. “Oh! Wait, I’ve just had an _amazing_ idea!”

His ‘amazing idea’ apparently involved whipping out his phone and snapping a gross picture of Todd’s startled face when he wasn’t ready.

“What the-?” Todd complained, batting his hand away.

“Pictures!” said Yellow, bouncing up and down. “We’re a couple- we should have pictures of each other! And pictures _together,_ too- we may have been long-distance, but I’m sure we’ve visited each other! People might ask to see them!”

Todd rolled his eyes, but took out his own phone. He was starting to think that when Yellow got an idea in his head, the quickest way to get it out was just to go along with it. “Fine,” he said, snapping a picture of Yellow’s grinning face. “But just a few!”

 

* * *

 

**Considerably More Than A Few Photos Later**

 

It was probably Todd’s fault for not putting his foot down sooner. But honestly, the first few selfies they took actually turned out to be pretty fun.

So he didn’t immediately fight Yellow when he suggested changing his jacket and tie to make it look like a photo from another occasion. Which of course meant Todd had to change, too. That wasn’t too bad.

But he probably should have tapped out when Yellow dragged him into a tux rental place to take cheesy formal photos in the mirror (‘we’ve been together five years, _obviously_ we’ve been to a wedding together!’). Or when Yellow dressed them both in shades, sunhats and oversized Hawaiian shirts from the thrift store to take holiday selfies in front of a miraculously un-graffiti’d billboard with a beach scene on it. But honestly, none of it felt that weird at the time. He was starting to realize that Yellow had a way of making the most bizarre situations feel almost natural.

Maybe because he was already a fucking bizarre guy to begin with. It kind of set the tone.

But when they’d been sat side by side on a park bench, going through their overflowing camera rolls to pick the best photos to use as home and lock screens... _that_ was when Todd got the feeling he might have let the idea snowball a bit.

But what’s done was done, and they had bigger things to worry about now. Like doing a good interview and getting this damn apartment they’d worked so hard for.

“Aha!” Yellow exclaimed as they rounded a corner onto the right street. They found what they were looking for pretty quickly; the Ridgely was easily the biggest building on the street. Yellow darted ahead and stopped in front of it with an excited bounce, grinning like a maniac. “Home sweet home!”

“We haven’t got it yet,” Todd muttered, but he couldn’t fault his enthusiasm. He might actually burst into happy tears himself if he left this meeting with the promise of somewhere to sleep that didn't give him splinters.

It was worth the price of pretending to be Yellow’s boyfriend, right? A place of his own with lots of space at a good price for, what, some pet names and visible hand-holding? It was a pretty good deal, bad karma aside. But he’d racked up enough bad karma all by himself the last couple of years- what was another lie in the grand scheme of things?

Yellow had already bounded up the stairs to the front door, finger over the buzzer with the name from the paper- ‘Mandelbrot, A.’, presumably the landlady. “I Googled this place in the diner- used to be a much larger apartment complex, although it got divided up and sold off separately a few years ago. Other half’s all offices, now,” he hesitated, turning to Todd with a bemused smile and holding out his hand. “Oh! And my name’s Dirk, by the way!”

Todd blinked. Shit. He’d gotten so used to the guy's made-up name he’d forgotten it wasn’t actually his real one. That could have blown their cover really fucking quickly. He took his hand and shook it. “Todd.”

“Nice to meet you, Todd,” Dirk beamed. “Looking forward to living with you.” 

He pressed the button. A buzz rang out within the building.

They waited.

Dirk pressed it again.

“Dirk!” Todd scolded, smacking his hand away. “We’re trying _not_ to look desperate!”

Dirk pouted, but didn’t try again.

They waited.

Todd pressed it again.

Dirk looked all ready to come out with a smug remark when they saw someone descending the stairs through the glass.

Todd had _no_ idea how they managed to get into the ‘couple’ pose so quickly. It was like they’d rehearsed it beforehand (which, despite Dirk’s insistence on thoroughness, they had _not_ ). But in the split second that the person on the stairs was still looking away, he had his arm wrapped snugly around Dirk’s waist, the taller man’s draped over his shoulders. Bodies pressed together up the side as if they couldn’t bear to stand apart, big phony ‘we’re so happy and in love’ grins firmly in place.

It was like fucking performance art.

The person came up to the door, smiling at them through the glass before opening it. If this was the landlady, she looked like the exact _opposite_ of what Todd would expect a landlady to look like. She was at least two decades younger, for a start. Twenties, pretty, dark eyes peering out from a pale face beneath killer bangs. Leather jacket, ripped jeans, battered Doc Martens. She looked a lot more… _grunge_ than he’d been prepared for. But she gave them a cheerful smile, glancing between the two of them curiously. “Hi?”

“Hi!” Todd said, already sweating a little. Geez, they hadn’t even started lying to her yet. What was the matter with him? He’d lied about worse stuff than this before! _Way_ worse stuff. “We’re, uh…”

“A couple!” Dirk finished brightly, holding out the hand that wasn’t hanging over Todd’s chest for a shake. “Dirk Gently, at your service! We spoke on the phone earlier? This is my wonderful partner, Todd Brotzman! Do forgive his mumbling, he’s very shy around strangers.”

Todd felt his face flaming. “I am not-!”

“Don't worry, dear, no one’s judging you!” Dirk soothed, patting his shoulder before stage-whispering to Miss Mandelbrot. “And _very_ self-conscious,” Todd had to resist the urge to shrug his arm off and punch it. “May we come in?”

“Oh, um, yeah!” she said, as if surprised she hadn’t invited them in already. Apparently she’d been preoccupied, watching their back-and-forth like it was a tennis match. Or a nature documentary. Like she was interested to see what they’d do next.

To be fair, so was Todd.

 

**To Be Continued...**

 


	2. Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dirk and Todd sit precariously atop their house of cards.
> 
> WARNINGS: swearing, ableist language (canon-typical), alcohol. REFERENCES TO: guns/weapons, sex.

**Almost An Entire Grand Apartment Tour Later**

 

It was a pretty nice apartment. Not exactly fancy, but better than Todd could have hoped for at that price. The living room was obviously the main feature, wide and sprawling with a long couch and an armchair, enough space for the biggest TV money could buy (assuming either of them had the money to buy it, which they did not). The kitchen sat off to the side, separated by a half-wall and breakfast bar. The door beside it lead off to a small bathroom, and the door at the back of it lead off to the bedrooms.

Amanda showed them the 'master bedroom' first, although she used the name like a jokey term of endearment. Mainly because all it had on the other one was three inches of floor space and a few extra electrical outlets. She also pointed out the king-sized bed with just a bit too much eyebrow-waggling. He'd called silent dibs on the room already, but he couldn't say so with Amanda right next to them. The 'spare room' was otherwise exactly the same, but it did have an extra window. And unlike the rest of the apartment with its olive-green walls, it was painted yellow. He could see the excitement in Dirk's eyes.

Good. No fights over rooms, then.

"Yeah, sorry it doesn't match- last tenant kinda did their own thing. But it's good for guests, or storage," Amanda suggested, oblivious to the fact that Dirk was already mentally unpacking. She glanced between them with another suggestive smirk. "Or if the two of you wanna make with the parenting."

Todd snorted before he could stop himself.

He'd have felt bad about the slip-up, if Dirk hadn't also released a little burst of incredulous giggles.

He gathered himself quickly and tried to recover from it. "Uh... I think that's still a ways down the line for us, right, Dirk?"

"Oh, absolutely," Dirk agreed, with an appreciative nod in his direction.

Todd shrugged. "Career first, y'know."

“How long have you guys been together?” asked Amanda, happily dropping the kid thing.

“Five years, eight months, three days,” they recited in unison, sharing a conspiratorial look. Well, it was conspiratorial on _Dirk’s_ side. Todd just felt kind of uncomfortable, and Dirk’s exaggerated wink wasn’t helping.

"Cool. Hey, what do you guys _do,_ anyway?"

Shit, yeah, they were a ‘professional couple’, now. _Well, I work in a record store for a coked-up manager so I can afford to sit around writing crappy songs I'll never sell, and Dirk drifts around hoping interesting things will happen to him and he might get paid somewhere down the line_. "I'm an assistant manager. For a small business, just on the side- I'm really focusing on my music career, right now."

"And I'm an investigative journalist!" Dirk added proudly. "And bassist in Todd's band!"

Amanda was grinning from ear to ear. "No _way!_ That's so cool- you guys got a name?"

"Uh," Todd fumbled.

"Oh, we're still in contention over the name," Dirk waved off the question with ease. He had kind of a talent for side-stepping direct questions. "We can both be rather stubborn when the mood strikes. Which is good! A little challenge keeps us both on our toes! Spices up the sex, too-"

Todd could feel another headache coming on. _"Dirk-!"_

"-Which I am _not_ going to talk about because this is a serious house viewing and interview, and not the place to discuss the passionate love I make to my long-term boyfriend Todd on a regular basis," Dirk finished, not in any way saving the sentence.

Amanda looked between them like they were the most confusing and fascinating thing she'd ever seen. Or a slapstick double-act. She probably wasn't wrong. "You guys are weird."

Todd's heart sank.

"You can move in whenever."

Todd gaped. He could see Dirk out of the corner of his eye pulling a similar expression, voice squeaking out on a high-pitched: _"Really?"_

"Yeah, man," said Amanda, leading the way to the apartment's front door. "I like you guys. I'm just gonna go get the papers for you to sign and we'll get this show on the road! I've only got one set of keys for the place- you guys are gonna have to go get another cut. I'd do it but I don't, uh, get out much..." she opened the door and darted for the stairs, pausing to smile at them over her shoulder. "I'll be right back- don't move!"

And with that she was gone, thumping up the stairs- to her own apartment, Todd assumed. He and Dirk were left to stand around like confused lemons on the welcome mat.

Todd let the slack expression slide off his face, feeling an actual _smile_ begin to take its place. "We actually got it..."

He had a flat. He had a bed and a kitchen and a couch and a roof over his head. His own place, his own space, his own _everything._

Well, _half_ his own.

Next to him, Dirk looked almost... disappointed. Todd stared at him in disbelief. "Dirk, we _got_ it. Why the hell d'you look so pissed off?"

Dirk looked at him, and reached into his jacket. His hand emerged clutching his phone.

"She didn't even want to see our photos."

 

* * *

 

**Two Days And A Lot Of Packing Later**

 

“You sure you wanna do this, Todd?” asked Farah, van dipping slightly as Todd handed up another box. “I mean, I already said you could stay on my couch ‘til you find your own place.”

“It’s not _your_ couch, Farah, it’s your bosses’,” said Todd with a grimace. “And Patrick hates me. I know that, _you_ know that, let’s move on.”

“Yeah, okay, okay,” she said, wedging the box in with the others. “Still, moving in with a guy you met _two weeks ago?_ I don’t like it. I mean, apart from being i- _insane_ , it's just... not _like_ you. You _sure_ you're not being threatened? Coerced? Blink twice if you're wearing a tracking device."

“I know it’s kinda… unorthodox. But it’s the best option I have right now.” Todd glanced back at the house. Just in time to catch the new guy twitching the curtain closed with an air of disdain. Asshole. “I’m not exactly overrun with prospects. Don’t worry, Yel-Dirk’s completely harmless.”

“You sure you don’t want-?”

“No, Farah, no guns.”

“Not even a small one? Seriously, the one I have in mind could _barely_ even be called a-”

 _“No,”_ Todd snorted, picking up the last box at his feet. “Seriously, I’m fine. I appreciate your concern, but I don’t think Dirk could hurt me even if he tried.”

“Maybe not physically,” she muttered, taking that box and stashing it with the others.

Before Todd could ask her what the hell she meant by that, she was pressing something small and cold into his hands. He looked down at the brass knuckles in exasperation. “Farah…”

“Hey,” she shrugged, closing the van door. “You can never be too careful.”

 

* * *

 

“Well, then!” Dirk grinned, dusting his hands off after depositing the last box on the curb. It stood nicely in line with its compatriots, like a squadron of attentive boxy soldiers. “This is it, I suppose! Can’t thank you enough for letting me share your…” he glanced at the battered brown Ford Corolla . “Accommodations. But, you know what they say, onwards and upwards!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bart grumbled, her voice like tyres on a gravel driveway. “Whatever.”

“You’ll have to come visit soon!” Dirk gushed, almost going for a hug- before remembering that this was Bart and she’d end his life without a second thought. “I can make you _tea_ and we can _chat_ about _life!_ And you can meet Todd- he’s _fantastic!_ He doesn’t always make the _best_ first impression, but I’m sure you’ll love him once you get to know him.”

“Huh,” she grunted, glancing between Dirk and the house. “Yeah, so, this guy. He, uh… y’know. He straight?”

Dirk frowned. “Well, that seems like a rather personal question. Your guess is as good as mine- he doesn’t tend to talk about his romantic entanglements-”

“ _No_ , I mean,” she grunted in frustration as she racked her brain for the right phrase. She was a little out of practice in the human conversation department. “I mean, like, straight up? On the level? He ain’t tryna screw you over or nothin’.”

“Oh! Oh, no, I shouldn’t think so,” said Dirk brightly, rolling up his sleeves ready to start carting boxes. “He’s a lovely man- a bit grumpy sometimes, but I have a feeling we were meant to find each other.” He smiled at her meaningfully, knowing she of all people would understand if he just found the right way to put it. “You know, a _gut feeling.”_

Bart blinked. “Well, shit, why didn’t ya say so?” She rolled her eyes, yanking the car door open. “Guess this is goodbye, Dirk. Don’t get yourself killed. ‘Less you’re s’posed to.”

“Same to you!” he called over his shoulder on the way to the door. All those boxes weren’t going to move themselves! “Pop round for a cuppa sometime!”

 

* * *

 

**8 Hours And Too Many Hot Beverages Later**

 

“Hey, Dirk?” Todd called out, rapping cautiously on Dirk’s bedroom door. After a few hours of small talk on the couch (while Dirk drank _way_ too much tea), he’d disappeared into his room with an armful of boxes. All Todd had heard since was banging, crashing and some mild cursing (which was pretty funny to listen to; he’d never heard such a clear-cut, brisk British accent swear like that). But that was over half an hour ago. Now, the extended silence was kind of unsettling. “You still in there?”

“Oh, Todd! Come in!”

 _Do I really want to do that?_ Todd asked himself. He turned the handle anyway.

And opened the door onto the most cluttered bedroom he’d ever seen in his life.

Dirk- sitting cross-legged on the bed, juggling a creepy plastic clown doll between his hands- grinned at him. “Todd, look, I unpacked everything!”

“I can see that,” Todd murmured, peering at the nearest pile of miscellaneous junk. “How the hell did you even fit all this into that car? No wonder you didn’t have any legroom.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Dirk said, waving his hand. “I buried it.”

“You… buried it?”

“Yes. Don’t worry, I divided it up between several boxes. I didn’t bury everything in one place where just _anyone_ could find it- I’m not daft! Even drew myself a map so I could find everything again!” he gestured to a crumpled map pinned to a cork board, along with an eclectic selection of pictures and notes tied together with string. “Although I must have drawn one of the crosses wrong, I couldn’t find the box with my slippers in anywhere…”

“Okay…” Todd said slowly. Seemed like a lot of effort to go to for a roomful of disjointed knick-knacks, but it was very… Dirk. Todd held up the black bag in his hand. “I was just gonna take some trash out, you got anything that needs to go down?” _For example… everything?_

“Nope. Folded away all the boxes. Funnily enough, there wasn't an awful lot of spare space in them for bubble wrap…”

“No kidding,” said Todd dryly, lowering his arm and turning away. “Be right back.”

“Fancy a cuppa?” asked Dirk, hopping up from the bed.

“No, thanks. God, how many of those have you _had_ today?”

“Not enough,” Dirk answered simply, bolting past Todd to the kitchen to switch on the kettle. Todd rolled his eyes. He could see an intervention on the horizon. No _way_ drinking that much tea was healthy, even for the single most British guy Todd had ever had the dubious pleasure of meeting.

He was just on his way to the front door when he noticed Dirk had frozen mug in hand, teabag dangling forgotten from his fingers as he stared out the kitchen window. “What’s up?” Todd asked out of politeness, fully expecting Dirk to say he’d seen a cat. Or maybe a cloud _shaped_ like a cat.

He wasn’t expecting Dirk to look at him, bemused, and say: “There appears to be a man climbing our fire escape.”

_What?!_

Todd dropped the bag and dashed to Dirk’s side, peering out the window. Sure enough, there was a guy out there. A few feet down and off the side of the window, closer to the next living room one, negotiating the rickety metal staircase. He was wearing thick work gloves, a toolbelt that kept clanging against the rails, and he had the handles of a plastic bag of… something clasped in his teeth, leaving his hands free to anxiously cling to the railing.

Dirk was opening the window before Todd could advise against it, leaning out and calling a cheery: “Hello!”

The poor guy almost fell right off the building. He whipped his head round, staring wide-eyed at them as he took the bag from his mouth. “ _What the-?_ Hey, what are you guys doing in my house?”

“ _Your_ house?” asked Todd, incredulous.

“Well, I mean, it’s not _my_ house, but I _live_ in it,” the guy amended, startling as the fire escape gave an ominous creak.

“So do we, we just moved in!” said Dirk excitedly, grinning at Todd. “Todd, look, we have _neighbours_ , now!”

“Why are you climbing the fire escape?” Todd called, asking the important questions. He leaned out for a better look- the guy was halfway up the building, high enough that falling would be a Really Bad Idea.

“I wanted to get to the satellite dish,” said the guy, frowning up towards the roof. “Make some adjustments. Door to the roof’s broken. But to be honest, I don’t think this is much better…”

Right on cue, the fire escape gave an alarming lurch. The guy gulped, and looked back at them with pleading eyes.

“...Can I come in, please?”

“Ooh!” Dirk exclaimed, gracelessly vaulting the breakfast bar to get to the living room window. “Perfect timing- the kettle’s just boiled!”

 

* * *

 

**2 ½ Very Chatty Hours Later**

 

Over the three cups of tea and coffee that followed- and whenever Dirk stopped talking long enough- they found out a little more about the man from the fire escape. First off, his name was Ken. Just Ken. He didn’t offer his surname, and it seemed kinda weird to pry. Second, he was renting the downstairs apartment- although they’d kind of already guessed that. And third, he was an electrician, but he dabbled in programming on the side. He wouldn’t say exactly what _kind_ of programming. Much like his last name, it was a topic he either actively avoided or just didn’t really care enough about to answer. Anytime the conversation turned that way he threw it over to Dirk who, being Dirk, was happy to talk and talk and talk until they were onto something totally different.

“-So I had to _escape_ through the bathroom window, and we were _two stories up!”_ Dirk recounted, gesticulating wildly. “I had to knot together lengths of shower curtain to make a rope- which _of course_ snapped halfway down. But luckily for me there were some very dense and springy rose bushes to break my fall, although the thorns did scratch me up _pret-ty_ _badly-!”_

_Knock-knock-knock!_

“Oh, thank God,” Todd muttered, jumping up from the couch so fast he almost tripped over Dirk's feet.

Not that Dirk’s stories weren’t a unique brand of entertaining bullshit, but he’d been hearing them for over two hours. He’d actually _kill_ to listen to someone else talk for a change.

“Hi!” Amanda grinned as he opened the door, holding up a six-pack of beer. “Booze for the happy couple?”

“Oh, _God_ , yes,” Todd breathed, stepping aside and inviting her in.

“Amanda, hi!” Dirk called from the couch, waving enthusiastically. “Have you met Ken? He’s _fantastic!”_

“Yeah, man, he rents in my building,” Amanda laughed, depositing herself in the armchair and her booze on the coffee table. “I only rent to fantastic people.”

Dirk blushed. “Oh, _stop_ it.” He smiled and flapped his hand dismissively in perhaps the campest gesture Todd had seen from him so far. Which was kind of impressive, ‘cause he made a _lot_ of camp gestures. He made a lot of gestures, period. Sometimes it was like his hands were operating independently to his brain.

“So,” she said, popping a can of beer and lounging back. “You guys move all your stuff in okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” Todd sat back down beside Dirk, and had a moment of panic wondering if they were supposed to be sitting closer together. No, that was stupid, couples weren’t all up in each other’s space _all_ the time. And their made-up relationship was five years old, so they _must_ be out of the honeymoon period by now. Unless they were going through an all _new_ honeymoon period, on account of finally being together after five hypothetical years of long-distance. _Shit_ , honeymoons- they’d been together _five years._ Were people gonna start asking them about marriage? How the hell did they answer that?! He could just say he didn’t believe in marriage. Shit, what would _Dirk_ say? They _really_ should have talked about this at some point. As soon as Amanda and Ken were gone he’d bring it up.

Assuming neither of them asked about it before he got the chance...

“So, Amanda,” said Dirk, leaning towards her intently. “I was just telling Ken about a case in Amsterdam…”

But if _anyone_ could unintentionally filibuster real conversation with case talk, it was Dirk Gently.

Okay. Maybe he could let his guard down enough for _one_ drink.

 

* * *

 

  **Way Past Everyone's Bedtime**

 

“Todd!”

Todd spluttered into wakefulness, lifting his head off the table. Shit. He must have dozed off. He blinked towards the voice, and saw a face he recognized. The name took a moment longer to surface. “Yellow,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Urgh. Sorry. What’d I miss?”

Yellow- no, wait, _Dirk,_ that was his real name- looked at him in bemusement. “Well, apart from one of the most thrilling tales of derring-do this side of the century, not an awful lot. Tired?”

“Long day,” Todd agreed. He was waking up now, and coming to the realization that they still had company. Ken was still sat the other side of Dirk on the couch, brow furrowed in confusion. He thought he heard him mumble something about _‘seventeen llamas’_ under his breath. Ah, right, _that_ case. He’d heard about it a few times from Dirk already. He’d picked a good time to take a nap.

Amanda was still there too, her feet on the coffee table along with three empty beer cans. “Aw,” she said, with the droopy smile of a person who’s alcohol was catching up to her. “Cute pet name. Where’d it come from?”

“Oh.” Todd’s face heated. He’d never actually slipped and called Dirk that out loud before. “Uh, Dirk was wearing a pretty crazy jacket when we first met.”

“Still have it, in fact!” said Dirk, with a warm smile at Todd.

“How long have you guys been together?” Ken asked, apparently over the llama thing for now.

“Five years, eight months, three days,” they recited easily, tagging on a few love-struck giggles for good measure. It was a pretty solid performance.

Amanda, however, had started to look a little confused. “...You said that two days ago.”

_Shit._

Time seemed to stop. Amanda stared at them. Ken stared at them. Todd stared straight ahead. He had no idea where the fuck Dirk was staring.

_It’s times like this I kinda wish I was telepathic, right Dirk?_

Silence.

 _Shit. I_ knew _your psychic thing was bullshit._

“We have…” Dirk offered tentatively, peering sideways at Todd. “...two anniversaries.”

“Yeah!” Todd leapt on it. “Yeah, we don’t really agree on when our relationship started-”

“-So we take it from different dates!”

“Dirk counts from the first time we kissed,” Todd added, feeling like he was probably giving too much detail but unable to scramble out of the lie. “I count from the first time we, uh…”

“Copulated!” Dirk squeaked.

...Okay. If the couch could just swallow him up now, that would be great.

“Oh,” said Amanda. She seemed a little weirded out (scratch that- a _lot_ weirded out), but apparently she believed them. “That’s… cute, I guess. Whose is it today, then?”

“Mine!” Dirk blurted. Todd agreed, smiling. Maybe now they could get the hell out of this spiral of lies and back to-

“So,” Ken said slowly, brow furrowed a little. “You had sex before you kissed?”

_SHIT._

“We…” Todd thought back to Dirk’s account of their fictional meeting. It was a house party, right? Frat party? An obvious solution, then. “Were very drunk.”

“Yes,” Dirk agreed, red-faced. “And we… weren’t facing each other.”

Todd could actually feel his soul trying to leave his body to escape the awkward silence that followed. He was half-tempted to just let it.

Thankfully, Amanda stepped up to the plate, raising her beer in an uncomfortable half-toast to break the tension. “Well… happy anniversary!”

He and Dirk nervous laughed, sharing a furtive glance as Ken and Amanda tapped their cans together like champagne glasses.

They’d gotten away with it… for now.

 

* * *

 

Eventually Amanda stumbled tipsily back upstairs to her own apartment, and Ken peeled off not long after. The second the door clicked behind him, Dirk and Todd both let out sighs of relief.

_That was close._

“Too close,” Dirk agreed.

_...Did I say that out loud?_

“Well!” Dirk slapped his palms on his knees, beaming. “I think that went rather well! Stroke of _genius_ with the pet name, by the way! I’ll have to come up with one for you… Ah, I know! I’ll call you Frito.”

Todd blinked. “What? Why?”

“Don’t be obtuse, Todd, you look _exactly_ like him,” said Dirk, waving a hand around Todd’s face.

“I have literally no idea what you’re talking about,” Todd scowled, slapping it away.

“Frito! The little fellow, in the films. Small fantasy chap? Big blue eyes, like yours?” Todd was still confused. _“The film!_ Ringing of the Three Lords! No? Not ringing any bells?”

“...You’ve lost me.”

“Hmm. Back to the drawing board on the pet name, then,” Dirk shrugged, standing up. “But I reckon we got away with it!”

“Yeah, but how long can we _keep_ getting away with it?” Todd muttered. Honestly, he felt pretty bad about lying to Amanda. Not bad enough to march upstairs and tell her the truth but, well… she seemed cool. He didn’t enjoy feeling like they were betraying her trust. But the lie didn’t exactly _affect_ anything, right? They were still the same people she’d invited into her home, whether they were a couple or not. Right?

“Oh, indefinitely, I should imagine!” said Dirk, oblivious to Todd’s moral quandary. “But I doubt we’ll have to- once they’ve lived with us a while and been _thoroughly_ charmed by us, I’m sure Amanda’ll let us stay even if we ‘break up’, don’t you think? Well, provided we reach an amicable split. We wouldn’t want her taking sides in a fall-out…”

Todd stood up, eyes downcast. He knew Dirk was probably right. Amanda seemed too nice to kick them both out over a breakup. But even if they did stop pretending, whatever end-relationship scenario they concocted to gain the most sympathy was just going to be another lie in an ever-growing spiral of them. Not that Todd was a stranger to lying, nor could he afford to be picky, but he had to wonder… was this place really worth it?

Something prodded his shoulder. He looked up, seeing Dirk’s bright smile as he withdrew his hand from the most out-of-the-blue shoulder poke of the century.

“Don’t worry, Todd,” he said, sounding assured in a way that Todd definitely envied. “I always end up where I need to be.”

“Yeah, so you keep saying,” Todd grumbled.

“I’m sure things’ll work out for the best,” Dirk continued, unaffected. “And even if they don’t I’m sure it’ll be for good reason! So we may as well just relax and enjoy this incredibly pleasant situation we’ve found ourselves in, and who knows, maybe it’ll even last. _I_ certainly hope it does. I rather like having you around.”

As usual, he sounded about a hundred and ten percent sincere. It somehow managed to take Todd by surprise every time. “...Thanks?”

“And with proper training-” Dirk smiled, patting his shoulder a little awkwardly- “I think you’ll make a fantastic assistant!”

“I’m _not_ your assistant.”

“Whatever keeps you sane,” Dirk yawned loudly, stretching in a slightly exaggerated manner. “Well! Don’t know about you, but I’m shattered. Think I’ll be off to bed.”

“Yeah…” Todd shook his head out. It really had been a long day. First of many, probably. There was a very real possibility that he was going to regret this decision in the morning. “Me too.”

“Now, Todd, I know we put on a very convincing show back there, but _do_ try to remember we sleep in separate rooms.”

“Hilarious, Dirk.”

“Of course, if you have a nightmare I wouldn’t be averse to- _aaaoooww!_ You are a _terrible_ assis-boyfriend!”

Then again, maybe he didn’t need to wait until morning to start regretting it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THUS IT BEGINS.


	3. Frustrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dirk finds new and creative ways to avoid doing any work.
> 
> WARNINGS: swearing, ableist language (canon-typical), quarter-life crisis angst, smoking. REFERENCES TO: guns/weapons, violence, sex, drugs, alcohol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow couple of chapters to get the peeps settled in and the characters introduced- sit back and relax!

**March**

 

Dirk had always held firm to the belief that the universe would take him where he needed to be. Not that where he needed to be was always the same as where he _wanted_ to go, but it was a belief that had served him well. More or less.

This time, though, he could honestly and wholeheartedly say that his belief had paid off. Because here he was, starting his exciting new life in the States (albeit a few weeks later than planned), and he’d had the good fortune of stumbling across Todd Brotzman.

Todd was a bit of a grump, but his heart was in the right place. And more importantly, he fell nicely into Dirk’s favourite category of people; ones in positions of absolute hopelessness. He always found those were the ones who stuck with him the longest, so this was off to a great start! So now, with Todd in the picture, he had a wonderful apartment _and_ a new assistant slash best friend!

...Slash fake boyfriend.

Well, the universe had to keep him on his toes _somehow!_

But really, pretending was no great hardship, and they hadn’t even had to do much of it yet. So the lie had absolutely _no_ impact on his good mood. Unlike _some_ things. Namely the laptop, unpacked and open on the breakfast bar, blank Word document waiting to be filled. Because that’s what investigative journalists did- investigate stuff, and then write about it. Dirk _loved_ the first part. Wasn’t so keen on the second. So far he’d not done much more than glare at it, willing the words to appear of their own volition.

He looked up when he heard a few lightly plucked guitar chords float into the air. “What are you playing?” he asked, happy for the distraction.

“Huh?” Todd glanced up from his spot on the couch, hand fiddling with one of the twisty-tuney things. “Oh, nothing. Just something I’ve been working on.”

He seemed disinclined to offer more information. Dirk sighed, turning his eyes back to the screen and the very blank page. Oh, that was a _very_ blank page. Right, no, he could do this. He’d been investigating stuff! Sometimes unintentionally, but no one else needed to know that. He glanced at the clock. Ten thirty. Right, half an hour of focused writing, that would be a good start. He looked at the page for a moment. The blank, _blank_ page. Actually, better just double check the time- _ten thirty-five?!_ Where did those five minutes go? Highly suspicious. He should ask Todd if they were having clock-problems. No, that was absurd. He should definitely ask Todd _something,_ though, seeing as he was right there. As was much of his stuff. Had he unpacked _anything_ in here? Ah! _That’s_ what he could ask him about! _Top notch idea, Dirk._

“Todd?” he called, leaning around the laptop. “You planning on unpacking at any point?”

Todd frowned. “I already did.”

“I don’t mean the stuff in _your_ room,” Dirk scoffed. No, he was _wildly_ aware that Todd’s room was unpacked, re-arranged and looking like it had always been so. A few early morning snoop-arounds had been very enlightening on that front. “But this is a shared area- you’ve got stuff in here, too!”

“It’s under your stuff,” said Todd, returning his attention to the guitar. “I’ll unpack mine when you’ve unpacked yours.”

“But I need to work!”

Todd rolled his eyes. “Yeah, so you keep saying, but I haven’t seen you type anything yet.”

Dirk pouted. Tapped a few random keys. Hit ‘enter’ with a satisfying _click_. “You were saying?”

“Look, Dirk- if you want the room unpacked, unpack it,” Todd grumbled. “Quit bothering me.”

Dirk clicked his tongue. “You’re a _terrible_ boyfriend.”

“Not your boyfriend.” Todd raised his finger to cut Dirk off before he could retaliate. “ _Or_ your assistant.”

“We’ll see,” said Dirk, looking around at the boxes littering the room. _Clearly_ they were the root of his distraction, sabotaging his writing process like… boxy saboteurs. “Maybe we should… draw up some sort of rotor? Take turns with the chores, strike a balance. We have to learn to live with each other, after all- we don’t know each other that well!” _Well, besides what information could be gleaned from the occasional early morning bedroom snoop._

“Sure, sounds good,” said Todd, disinterested.

“Right, well,” Dirk mumbled, tapping his fingers on the counter by the laptop. “Write one of those up, shall I?”

“Go nuts.”

“Right. Yes.” Dirk glowered at the screen. Raised his hands over the keyboard. He could do this. He could _do_ this.

And he did. Suddenly his fingers were flying and, _oh,_ he was a _speed demon._ He’d have this thing done in no time! Dirk one, writer’s block zero! He was on _fire!_ He was moving his fingers so much, goodness, how long had he been at it now? Ten minutes? Twenty?  He was on a roll! Okay, now just a quick break from the typing to read over what he’d done so far. Hmm. Not quite as meaty a paragraph as he’d thought…

“Dirk?”

He looked up. Todd was hovering over him, guitar abandoned on the sofa. Dirk glanced between him and the laptop, grinning. “Todd! How long have I been writing?”

Todd glanced at the clock. “About a minute and a half.”

_“Shit.”_

“Dirk, obviously something’s distracting you,” said Todd, exasperated.

Dirk opened his mouth to protest, which is when he quite abruptly realised that Todd was standing over him in just his boxers and a t-shirt. He averted his eyes with a slight blush- if there was something he hadn’t quite got used to yet, it was his roommate's tendency to walk around like he’d just rolled out of bed. “...Maybe.”

Todd looked at him, arms crossed, and nodded. “Okay. Okay, I think there’s something we’ve gotta do.”

“Todd, I really need to work-”

Suddenly Todd’s hand was on his shoulder, and their faces were awfully close together.

Dirk’s breath caught.

“It’s _important,_ Dirk,” Todd said seriously, voice pitched low, making the hairs on Dirk’s arms stand on end. “Trust me.”

_...Well._

 

* * *

 

**23 ½ Satisfying Minutes Later**

 

“Phew!” Dirk huffed, exhausted. He blinked up at the ceiling, carpet rough against his back. His shirt must have ridden up. _“Well,_ that was…”

“Yeah,” Todd agreed, lying at his side. He lit up a cigarette and took a long, satisfied drag. “Yeah, I think… I think we needed to do that.”

“Yes… suppose it was inevitable,” said Dirk, lacing his fingers together behind his head.

“It would have got out of control, right? If we’d let it build up.”

“Oh, _God_ , yes. Hell of a lot of tension to carry around.”

“But it’s done now. Out of our systems. Right?”

 _“Completely,”_ Dirk sighed, satisfied, peering at the room around them.

The totally unpacked, _beautifully_ tidy living room.

It was tiring work, but _God,_ was it worth it.

He turned his head to Todd with a coy smile. “So. What do you want to do now?”

Todd exhaled a smoke ring. “I think we should vacuum the area rugs."

 _“Ooh._ Kinky.”

 

* * *

 

**14 ¼ More Minutes Later**

 

Cleaning interlude over, Dirk sat down once more to work. Should be easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy, now that there were no distractions!

Or so he thought. The page, however, remained stubbornly blank- aside from his little half-paragraph of a chore rotor, that is. Which, looking back over it, made very little sense as it was basically a list of things in the room with Todd’s name beside them. Back to square one on that, then. Bother. Todd’s name looked quite nice written down, though. He wrote it again a couple of times. Then he wrote _his_ name after it. Then he switched the order. Then he started swapping letters and trying to make new words. Dirk and Todd weren’t rich in possibilities so he branched out to their surnames. Then to spice it up he set a time limit and started humming the _Countdown_ tune. He didn’t get as many words as he’d hoped, so he started the song again. Not much luck the second time either. He started again. And again. And aga-

_“Dirk.”_

“Hm?” Dirk looked over to the couch and found Todd with his annoyed face on. How odd. “Yes, Todd?”

“Dirk, you’ve hummed those same eight bars like fifty times,” Todd complained.

 _Oh dear._ “I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

Todd rolled his eyes. He did that a lot. “Look, if you’re gonna hum just change the tune, okay?”

“Fair enough.” He cleared his throat and started humming something different.

“And no Robbie Williams.”

“Why do you dislike happiness so much, Todd?”

“Just… get back to work, idiot.”

“Rude,” Dirk grumbled. But, he had to admit Todd had a point. He’d sat down to work and all he’d done was play _Countdown_ with their names. Twenty-three words, though. Rather respectable, considering the appalling lack of available E's. But, _not_ what he should be focusing on. No, he should write up a case. Lately he’d been all investigating, no journaling- _lately_ being the last five years or so. He hadn’t written about that fascinating incident with the doorknocker yet, he could do that! But where to begin…? _Ugh,_ why was it _so_ much easier to _talk_ about things than it was to write about them? Perhaps he could pay someone to write things down while he talked about them! _Oh,_ no, he’d need money to do that, and to make money he needed to write. Bugger. He was going in circles. Round and round like a record, or a disco ball-

He jumped up so suddenly that Todd almost threw his guitar across the room. _“Party!”_

“What?” Todd looked adorably confused, brows all knitted together.

“We should have a housewarming party!” Dirk elaborated, hands in the air like it was obvious which it _clearly_ was and _how_ had he not seen it before?! “Todd, we’ve lived here, what, two weeks? Two and a half? And we haven’t had a party yet!”

“We had Amanda and Ken round, the night we moved in,” Todd reminded him. _Clearly_ he wasn’t getting it.

“That wasn’t a _party_ , Todd. No, I mean a _real_ party- with nibbles and dancing! And a glitter ball! I’ll make one out of tinfoil, and it’ll be the glitteriest ball in Seattle- possibly the world!” _Oh_ , yes, he had a _vision_ in his head for this party already. This was happening. “We’ll invite all our friends!”

“Dirk, if I had friends to invite, I wouldn’t have been sleeping at work when I met you,” said Todd. He always seemed to know how to bring the mood down.

“You’ve got Farah! And I’ve got Bart! We’ll invite Amanda and Ken again, too! Including us, that’s six people- _perfect_ size for a party. Enough of us to fill the dance floor but it won’t get out of hand. Come on, Todd!” He flung himself down on the sofa beside him, leaning into his space in a way Todd was probably about to tell him off for, pleading with his eyes. _“Please?”_

Todd managed about five seconds frustrated glaring before he conceded with a sigh. “Fine.”

Dirk raised his hands in triumph so fast he clipped himself on the chin! _“Ouch!_ Yes! Brilliant! I’ll go talk to Amanda and Bart- you get Farah and Ken!”

Todd, as usual, was staring at him like he’d lost his mind. “Wait, you wanna do this _tonight?”_

“No time like the present!” Dirk grinned, clapping his hands. _“Oh!_ We need nibbles! Alright, you go out for snacks and booze, I’ll get cracking on the decorations!”

“Okay… wait, no, sorry, why do _I_ have to go out for stuff?”

Dirk rolled his eyes. “Well, _obviously_ the glitter ball’s not going to make itself.”

“Obviously,” Todd muttered, putting guitar aside. “Fine. But don’t expect anyone to turn up on such short notice.”

“ _Yes_ , Todd.”

“And your room’s the coat room!”

 _“Alright,”_ Dirk chuckled, scooping up the laptop and closing it with a decisive snap. Couldn’t have that old thing getting in the way! They’d need the counter space for dips. “Right, off you pop! I’m off to talk to Amanda- no! I’m off to choose an outfit, _then_ talk to Amanda! Yes, that makes more sense! Get marshmallows!”

He sauntered off to his room to the soundtrack of Todd’s put-upon grumbling.

He had a good feeling about this!

 

* * *

 

**45 Minutes And A Phone Call Later**

 

Todd had a _bad_ feeling about this.

But at least he had one person he could count on to be a sane, sympathetic ear to his woes.

“Tonight? As in _t-tonight,_ tonight?” said Farah, bewildered stammer making an appearance. “That’s… that’s pretty short notice.”

“You’re telling me,” Todd huffed, shifting the basket to his other hand. Cheap beer was great, but hauling it round the store kind of sucked. He wasn’t so used to doing this at the moment- he’d barely left the apartment since they moved in except for work. He wasn’t super into the whole… getting out and living life thing, right now. Or the social interaction thing. Just another reason why tonight was a bad fucking idea. “But you know what it’s like when Dirk gets an idea in his head.”

“I don’t, actually,” she said, with a pointed look. “I haven’t met the guy.”

Todd winced. Right. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

“Todd, are you, y’know… g _-good_? At the moment?”

 _That_ was a loaded question. Was he ‘good’? Well, he’d just been kicked out of his band and only real friend group of the last six years and was now living in a dull haze of shallow depression while selling vinyls to unappreciative hipsters and dealing with a needy procrastinating roommate. But otherwise. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, I would’ve invited you round, but... yeah, I guess it’s been a busy couple weeks.”

“Right. _Busy,”_ she repeated with emphasis, pursing her lips.

“What’s with the tone?”

She sighed, throwing up her hands. “Nothing. Nothing at all. I just… hope you’re taking care of yourself is all. Y’know, being careful.”

Her insinuation finally sank in, and he spluttered. “What- oh, my God, _no_ , we’re not like- there’s nothing-!”

“ _Not_ that it’s any of my business!” She patted his shoulder. “But, y’know, this is- this is moving pretty fast. Especially for you, y’know? I’m just looking out for you.”

“Farah, seriously, there is _nothing_ going on with me and Dirk,” he said firmly, still beet red. “I-I mean, there is as far as Amanda and Ken are concerned, but it’s all a charade. Seriously.”

He was telling the truth, and obviously she could see it. “ _Huh_ ,” she said, brows raised. “Okay.”

Todd sighed. “Go on. I know you wanna say something.”

She shrugged. “I guess I’m… kinda surprised.”

“Why?”

“Well, I mean, you only just met the guy. Like, literally _just_ met him. I thought for _sure_ you were only so eager to move in with him because you guys were… y’know,” she smirked a little as his face grew redder. “And, I don’t know, he seems like he could be your type.”

“My ty- _hang on_ , how do _you_ know what my ‘type’ is?” he demanded, bumping her hip with the basket. “A-and while we’re at it, how d’you know Dirk’s it? You haven’t even met him!”

“Reason number three why I thought you guys were dating,” she said, smiling a little too smugly. “You talk about him all the time. And _of course_ I know your type, Todd, we’ve been friends for years- hell, _I_ used to be your type.”

“Yeah, sure, keep reminding me,” he grumbled. Honestly, the memory of the time he asked Farah out at college was one he’d happily bury. She’d let him down gently and they’d stayed close, but his so-called friends had never let him live down the rejection.

Man. He wished he could stop feeling sad about being dumped by those jerks.

“Point is,” she continued, tapping his arm as they came up to the snack aisle. “I think I’ve got a pretty good database now of ‘ideal Todd partner traits’, and so far this Dirk guy’s checking a _lot_ of boxes.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“He’s tall- well, taller than you.”

“So’s most of the adult population,” Todd muttered bitterly, scanning the shelves for his favorite chips and finding them on the highest one. Of course. “And I don’t think that’s the strongest basis for a relationship.”

“He’s confident.”

“He _seems_ confident. I’m pretty sure it’s all smoke and mirrors.”

“He’s optimistic.”

Todd frowned, standing on tiptoes to reach the shelf. “Is that a thing I look for?”

“Well, Maybe not _consciously_ ,” she rolled her eyes and grabbed a bag for him. “But you’re, like, the biggest pessimist I know- and yeah, I’m including myself in that assessment. I think you, like, _seek out_ people with a brighter outlook, even if you don’t always know you’re doing it.”

He scowled, snatching the bag. “You writing a psych paper on me or something?”

She raised her hands, placating. “Hey, you asked.”

That was true, but he was still fucking pissed. “Well, think whatever you want, but me and Dirk aren’t like that. He’s just…” _Shit_ , how exactly _did_ you define the relationship between him and Dirk? He wasn’t sure there was one word for it. “...an acquaintance who I kind of hate. But is also weirdly entertaining. And lives with me. And, and makes me do the grocery shopping, apparently.”

After a searching look, she gave a tight nod. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Thank you,” he sighed. This topic of conversation was getting pretty exhausting. “Now, can we _please_ get back to shopping for my crazy roommate’s impulse disco? This basket’s heavy.”

 

* * *

 

**An Hour Of Bitching And Moaning Later**

 

“Ah, Todd!” Dirk beamed, stepping back from his handiwork. “What do you think?”

“I’m…” Todd surveyed the room, brow furrowed. “...pretty surprised we had that much foil.”

“Oh, we didn’t, but I went out and bought more,” said Dirk, tearing off a piece of tape. “This is the first party we’re throwing here, we have to do it right!”

“...Yeah, because nothing says ‘party’ like foil on every surface,” Todd said dryly. And he did mean _every_ surface. The tables, the chairs, the walls, shelves, lights, everything in sight had been bedecked in some way with shiny tinfoil. He felt like he’d walked onto the set of a fan-made Star Trek musical.

“Exactly!” said Dirk, not catching the sarcasm. Or wilfully ignoring it, honestly, Todd could never tell. “Is Farah coming?”

“Yeah,” said Todd, dropping his bags on the shiny breakfast bar. “Probably have one hand on her gun all night, though. What about Amanda?”

“Bad luck on that front, actually- Amanda’s having her own party tonight.” Dirk frowned as he attempted to make a shiny foil border around their crappy TV. “Although she said she might drop by later- she also invited us to hers, but obviously we’re otherwise engaged. And I caught Ken in the hallway, he’s coming- he seemed oddly keen for an excuse not to go to Amanda’s, actually. Apparently her friends are a bit of a handful. No luck getting a hold of Bart, but I’m sure she’ll turn up if she’s supposed to come, which she _obviously_ is. So, all coming together! Why’s Farah bringing a _gun?”_

“Security,” said Todd, stacking cases of beer in the fridge. “For the party. And herself- helps with her anxiety. Don’t worry, she won’t use it-” he paused, brow furrowing- “Probably.” He sighed, turning to Dirk and putting his hands on his hips. “Dirk, this is all pretty last minute- why don’t you and me just go to Amanda’s tonight? We can do this some other time, when everyone can make it.”

“No, it _has_ to be tonight!” Dirk insisted, walking over to root through Todd’s snack haul. “I’ve got a feeling. _Ooh_ , yum!” he grinned, finding a bag of marshmallows and tearing into it.

“A ‘feeling’?” said Todd, snatching the bag back. If Dirk was gonna insist on this party, the least he could do was save some food for it. “Is this one of your weird ‘flow of the universe’ things?”

“Call it a hunch,” said Dirk, nabbing a couple of marshmallows quicker than Todd could intervene.

“Seriously? We’re gonna blow off Amanda and throw a last minute party over a ‘hunch’?” said Todd, incredulous. He knew Dirk had this idea that he was like, psychic or whatever, but this…

“Don’t worry Todd, I know what I’m doing!”

“Really?”

“Well, no. I never know, actually, it’s really _very_ relaxing.”

“That doesn’t fill me with confidence.”

“Todd,” Dirk said, smiling. “C’mon. What could go wrong?”

 _No one could show up. Or everyone could show up and our weird friends won’t get along and kill each other. Or blurt something to someone who shouldn’t hear something and before you know it our secret’s out and we’re both on the street again._ “...No. That just made it worse somehow.”

It was going to be a _very_ long night.

 

**To Be Continued...**

 


	4. Gatherings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a band of misfits is formed.
> 
> WARNINGS: swearing, ableist language (canon-typical), alcohol, drug use (marijuana), guns, reckless destruction of property REFERENCES TO: sex, bullying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Dirk's party playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/lilyenrenn/playlist/4n2BGxJyVD2E86NEvFLplN) if you're into that sorta thing ^_^

**5 ½ Hours And An Insane Amount Of Tinfoil Later**

 

Todd had always figured that the second worst person to be at a party- after the one stuck with the clean-up at the end- was the first to arrive.

So his heart begrudgingly went out to Ken the second he stepped through the door to be assailed by the terror that Todd had dubbed ‘Party Dirk’- which was basically normal Dirk, except somehow _more_ restless and flamboyant. And wearing a jacket so glittery it hurt Todd’s eyes to look at it. He had to give him credit for the coordinating glitter on his cheeks and eyelids, though. Party Dirk was as big a garish mess as Regular Dirk, but he definitely had an aesthetic going.

Todd had drawn a line in the sand when Dirk had tried to glitter up _his_ face to match, though. The day his and Dirk’s pretend relationship developed to the matching outfits stage was the day he’d well and truly lost control of his life.

He watched impassively from the couch as Party Dirk swept Ken into the room like a glittery hurricane, plying him with too many drinks and snacks to hold in two hands and small talk at ninety miles per hour. Ken looked, as most people did after a verbal Dirk assault, like he’d been unexpectedly blasted in the face with a confetti cannon. He was still a bit shell-shocked by the time he made it to the couch to sit beside Todd.

“Hey,” Todd greeted him, keeping his voice neutral. He figured after an up close and personal Party Dirk encounter, Ken didn’t need another bombardment of cheeriness.

“Hey,” Ken said back, blinking quite rapidly. “It’s, uh… shiny. In here.”

“Yeah. Dirk.”

“I figured.”

They shared a look and a moment of silent understanding, and Todd felt a little flicker of hope that maybe tonight wouldn’t be a _total_ write-off.

It lasted an entire five seconds before Dirk started insisting they should all be up and dancing, and started his music selection of the night.

But no amount of S Club 7 telling Todd to reach for the stars could drag him from the couch when he was safely burrowed in like a tic.

The doorbell, however, could. “I’ll get it!” he yelled before Dirk had a chance, bolting out the door and down the stairs.

He felt a little bit guilty about leaving Ken at the mercy of Party Dirk, but he needed a breather. And maybe it was Farah at the door, come to add a bit of stoic (and slightly twitchy) normality to the night.

He could not have been more wrong.

 

* * *

 

“Uh…” he glanced between the four guys apprehensively, taking in the ripped jeans and leather jackets and the heavily dented van ‘parked’ against a nearby stop sign. “Are you… friends of Dirk?”

“Who?” asked the tall guy with the circular face tattoo, confused.

Another one, a pale guy standing forward of the others and oozing a certain presence that said ‘leader’, prodded his glasses with the end of his baseball bat _(baseball bat?!)_. “Don’t know who the hell you’re talkin’ about, Snack Size- me ‘n the boys’re here for Drummer Girl.”

“Hey, assholes!”

Todd jumped, spinning round. Amanda stood at the foot of the stairs, hanging off the banister and grinning past him at the guys on the doorstep. “Quit scaring the new guy!”

“AMANDA!” the deafening roar from the three guys (the leader was apparently too cool to join in) almost burst Todd’s eardrum. They swarmed past him, flocking to Amanda like she was queen of the punks, which… to be fair, she probably was. One of them- a grinning black guy with incongruous bits of fur on his leather jacket- scooped her right up onto his shoulders as he cheered with the rest of them.

“Todd!” she laughed, kicking playfully at the small guy with the mohawk as he buzzed around her feet. “These are my friends! This lil’ punk’s Vogel, tall guy’s Cross, this big lug’s Gripps-" she patted the beanie-covered head of the guy carrying her, and then pointed at the door with a grin- “And that jerk’s Martin.”

Todd turned back round and flinched when he found Martin standing awfully close, looking him up and down like he was sizing him up.

He eventually grunted and moved on to join his friends, leaving Todd feeling like he’d just failed some kind of test.

Todd stood around, awkward and a little embarrassed for no reason he could name, as the guys picked up Amanda and crashed up the stairs in a mass of noise and leather. Great. Somehow he’d just had his self-esteem knocked down several more pegs and the guy didn’t even have to say a word.

A high-pitched shriek from his apartment snapped him out of his little self-pity party. He'd heard a similar sound only last week, when Dirk had found a spider by the microwave and tried whacking it with Todd's guitar. Todd cursed, shut the front door and lunged up the stairs two at a time.

He caught a glimpse of Amanda’s gang as they turned the corner up the stairs to her place. Dirk he found peering nervously after them through the barely-cracked door to their floor. “Dirk?” Todd said, pushing on the door. “What’s up?”

“Oh, Todd!” Dirk sighed in relief, opening it for him. “I was just coming to see what was taking so long! Sorry, Amanda’s… _friends_ gave me a bit of a fright. I’m not the world’s biggest fan of gaggles of loud men with stompy boots.”

“I’m sure they’re not _that_ bad,” said Todd as they walked back to the apartment, not entirely convinced. They were pretty intimidating. But they seemed pretty sweet on Amanda- how bad could they be, really?

Their return to the flat was immediately followed by a crash and the sound of four bellowing voices whooping at the top of their lungs. He and Dirk looked up to the ceiling in unison, wincing as a fine rain of plaster dust fell over them.

Dirk considered the vibrating ceiling a moment, then crossed over to his laptop and turned up the volume on his playlist.

Todd rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’ll show ‘em,” he muttered under the now un-ignorable tunes of Girls Aloud.

“Cheer up, Todd!” Dirk beamed, prodding him in the shoulder. “Our party’s better than theirs, anyway!”

Todd looked at Dirk. Then at Ken, still sat motionless and uncertain on the couch. Then at the vaguely spherical mass of perforated foil around the ceiling light that Dirk optimistically called a glitter ball. “...right.”

“Well, we’ve barely started yet,” said Dirk with a shrug. “Wait ‘til everyone else turns up, then you’ll see!”

“Yeah, sure,” Todd muttered. “Hey, where’d you put my guitar? You didn’t wrap it in foil, did you?”

“Don’t worry, I put it in your room- I wouldn’t _dream_ of tampering with your precious guitar. I learned my lesson after the spider debacle."

“Good,” said Todd, ignoring the sarcasm to look at Ken. They should probably be trying not to ignore their only guest. “You need another drink, man?”

Ken glanced down at the coffee table and the three beers and four bowls of chips Dirk had put there when he’d come in. “...No, thanks. I’m good.”

Todd nodded and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Silence, punctuated by another girl group that Todd couldn’t name and the loudly stomping feet of Amanda’s guests upstairs, fell over them. Even Dirk seemed to be out of anecdotes- he was probably still in shock from his scare with the van gang.

“So,” said Ken, fiddling with the label on his beer bottle. “You guys… have separate rooms?”

Todd stiffened. _Shit_. “Yes,” he said. He glanced frantically at Dirk, who was making like that Twilight vampire and standing around being sparkly and unhelpful. “Uh, Dirk… Dirk snores.”

Dirk looked affronted. “I do no-!”

He caught Todd’s warning glare and changed tack. “I do not… do anything _but_ snore. Which is a perfectly ordinary and reasonable way to phrase that.”

“Yeah, he’s impossible,” said Todd, trying to laugh it off like he wasn’t scrambling to save their cover story. “Snores like a pig!”

“Yep, like a big sweaty pig!”

They both laughed the phoniest laughs Todd had ever heard- he actually wanted to punch himself in the face. He trailed off about the same time as Dirk, and uncomfortable silence fell again. Ken was still looking at them funny. Todd shared a glance with his roommate. Someone needed to say something, and it was _not_ gonna be him again.

“...We’re not a real couple!” Dirk blurted.

 _Shit_ , it should have been him. _“Dirk!”_ he hissed, shoving his shoulder.

 _“I panicked!”_ Dirk hissed back, hands flailing.

Ken was glancing back and forth between them, looking bewildered and kind of nervous. Honestly, Todd didn’t blame him. “Wait, you guys… _aren’t_ together?”

Todd racked his brain for more excuses, and found himself fresh out. “...No,” he said, shamefaced. “We lied, to get the apartment. B-but we were desperate!”

“Incredibly!” Dirk agreed, vigorously nodding. “I was living in a small car! With a vaguely homicidal dirt muppet! And Todd was getting _awful_ backache from that storeroom floor!”

“We had no choice!”

“None!”

“So please, _please_ , don’t tell-!”

“Amanda!” Dirk cut in loudly, elbowing Todd and jerking his head towards the open front door.

Where Amanda had just fucking materialized.

Of course.

 _“Amanda!”_ Todd repeated, flustered, plastering on a grin and grabbing Dirk’s hand. Couple mode engaged. “Hi!”

“Hey, guys,” said Amanda cheerfully, leaning on the door frame and raising a bottle of beer in salute. “How’s the party?”

Todd tried not to visibly wince. “...Going off.”

Amanda looked from him, to Dirk, to Ken still sitting alone and incredibly confused on the couch, and nodded slowly. “Yeah… well, hey, if you guys want a change of scene, come on upstairs- the Rowdies talk tough but they won’t bite!”

“Oh, I’m afraid we can’t leave,” said Dirk quickly and decisively.

Todd looked at him, brow furrowed. “We can’t?”

“No,” Dirk gave him a meaningful look that Todd had no clue how to interpret. “We’re not done waiting.”

“For-?”

“Hey, Todd,” a new voice chimed in from the doorway.

Okay, this was getting fucking ridiculous- why was everyone climbing out of the woodwork _now?_ Todd raised his head, and calmed down a little when he saw a familiar face in the hall behind Amanda. “Farah!” His delight quickly turned to confusion. “Wait, how’d you get up? Shit, did I forget to close the door properly?”

“No, just picked the lock,” she shrugged, giving Amanda a business-like nod on the way through to giving Todd a one-armed hug. “Sorry I’m late. There was… a thing,” she said cryptically.

She pulled back and turned her attention to Dirk, looking him up and down from his shiny shoes to his shinier face. She was obviously dying to make introductions, but thankfully restrained herself. Todd wasn’t sure how he’d explain his best friend not knowing his boyfriend of five years to Amanda. “Where can I leave my coat?” she asked instead.

“Dir-” Todd cut himself off, eyes wide because _shit_ , he’d almost just said Dirk’s room.

And now he’d gone weirdly silent and Amanda was staring and _oh God, Dirk was gonna blurt out the truth again and he was too paralyzed to stop him-_

“I’ll get it!”

He and Dirk both jumped at Ken’s sudden exclamation. They watched him get up from the couch with unease, acutely aware that right now he had the power in the palm of his hand to expose their lie and possibly get them thrown out on the street.

But he gave them a look, and said loud and clear: “I’ll go put it in _Dirk and Todd’s room_ for you.”

Todd didn’t like to throw the word ‘hero’ around, but...

“Uh, thanks,” said Farah, a little confused by the intensity of the statement.

Todd tried to channel as much gratitude as humanly possibly into his eye contact with Ken, who responded with a conspiratorial nod (which was incredibly obvious and not subtle at all, but they couldn’t exactly afford to be picky).

“No problem,” said Ken, still nodding a little too much as he took Farah’s coat. “Can I take your…” he glanced nervously between her face and the holster on her side. “...gun?”

“Gun goes where I go,” she said flatly.

“Okay,” he squeaked, before clearing his throat and repeating it in a firmer voice. “Okay. I’ll just go… yeah.”

He hastily retreated to Dirk’s room with the coat. Todd looked at Amanda, worried that she’d picked up on the tension in the room or Ken’s not-so-subtle signals. But her attention, it turned out, was elsewhere. Namely on Farah, looking her up and down appreciatively. Well.

Another loud bellow and crash from upstairs dragged her attention away. She rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “Shit. There goes the other lamp. I’d better get back to the boys- but you guys can come up anytime, seriously!”

“Thanks, Amanda,” Todd said, watching her dart up the stairs wistfully. Honestly, with the way their party was going he’d rather take his chances with the scary van gang- at least parties full of loud drunken assholes were familiar territory for him. Maybe he could persuade Dirk…

“So, Farah,” Dirk said with an enormous grin, taking her arm and leading her to the kitchen. "Has Todd told you about the time I found an original Pre-Raphaelite painting in a wheelie bin? Y'know, it's a funny story-!"

Okay. So maybe not.

 

* * *

 

**3 Hours and Seven Different-But-Connected Anecdotes Later**

 

“-which is just one of the many reasons the case of the missing Millais is among the most thrilling and, dare I say it, _sexy_ cases of my career!”

“Uh-huh,” Farah said, nodding incredibly politely. Todd had to admit, she was really taking Dirk and all his… _Dirk-_ ness in stride. He sighed, glancing at Ken again. He was a nice guy, and a fucking hero to Todd for handling the situation with Amanda, but they’d yet to hit on anything they really had in common. “Do you like…” Todd cast his eyes around the room for ideas. “...chairs?”

Ken nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, they’re good for… sitting.”

“Right? Yeah, that’s, that’s my favorite thing to do in them.”

“Same.”

They both took an awkwardly synchronized sip of beer. Silence fell again. Well, not _complete_ silence. Complete silence would probably be preferable- Dirk’s party playlist was still going strong. Todd couldn’t even understand what the singers were saying anymore, it was as if the endless parade of mindless pop had actually given him brain da mage. _Wait_ , no, they weren’t singing in English anymore. That made more sense. Oh, God, his collection of bad pop extended _overseas?_  To… what language was this, Japanese? Korean? _Shit_ , they were gonna be here forever. The thought was suddenly terrifying. “I’m just gonna…” he mumbled, standing up. “Get more chips.”

Ken probably didn’t buy it, seeing as there were already about thirteen bowls on the table in front of them, but he didn’t question it. Todd reached the breakfast bar where Dirk was perched on a stool beside Farah and talking her ear off, and prodded his shoulder. “Hey, Dirk.”

“Todd!” said Dirk with a smile brighter than his jacket. “Why has it taken you so long to invite Farah round? She’s fantastic!”

“We only moved in two weeks ago.”

“Yes, and that’s two wasted weeks of Farah and I not being best friends,” Dirk reasoned.

Todd supposed he couldn’t argue that, but it wasn’t what he came over to talk about. “Look, Dirk, we’ve been here hours, everyone who’s gonna show up already has- why don’t we all go up to Amanda’s for a while?”

 _“No!”_ Dirk blurted, loud enough to make everyone in the room jump. His cheeks flushed pink beneath the glitter. “I mean, _clearly_ we’re having the superior party. Why uproot ourselves?”

“It’s _literally_ just upstairs,” said Todd, brow furrowing.

“Well, _I_ think we’re best off staying put,” said Dirk primly, plucking a chip from the bowl in front of him. “Besides, we’re still waiting.”

“For what?”

“Todd, do you trust me?”

“Not… Not particularly.”

Dirk looked hurt. “Well… I have a feeling this is where we need to be. So. Can you _pretend_ to trust me for a little bit longer?”

Todd sighed, but annoyed as he was, Dirk’s downtrodden face was one he was loathe to argue with. He nodded.

Dirk returned the gesture, smiled a little tightly at Farah, and announced that he was going to chat to Ken for a while. He pushed himself off from the counter and made a beeline for the couch, Todd sliding into his abandoned spot as he went with a groan.

Farah narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s up with you?”

 _“What’s up?”_ Todd repeated incredulously, not loud enough for Dirk to overhear. “There’s people actually having _fun_ upstairs, and I’m stuck down here in this tinfoil nightmare because my crazy roommate has a ‘gut feeling’!”

“So… you don’t buy it, then?”

“No!” he boggled at her. “Do _you?”_

She shrugged. “Well, it does sound kinda out there. But a fighter’s gotta learn to trust their instincts. If he’s got a gut feeling, there’s probably something in it.”

“Geez, Farah, this isn’t exactly a battlefield.”

“No,” she squinted, gaze darting between the doors and windows. Spot checks- she’d been doing them all night. And pretty much every day since he’d met her. “Not yet.”

“...How’s the paranoia these days?”

“Yep. Still very… there.”

“Great.” He sighed, leaning back against the counter and glancing at Dirk. He was talking rapidly at Ken, who was looking confused and a little concerned. Maybe he was telling the horse story again. Farah looked at them too, and chuckled as she took another swig of her drink. Todd narrowed his eyes at her. “Can’t you at least _pretend_ to be annoyed at him with me?”

She shook her head. “No, don’t think so.”

“Are you always this loyal to weird guys you’ve only just met?”

“Well, you're still here."

“Okay, walked right into that,” Todd elbowed her. “C’mon, what is it about him? You’ve known him three hours and you already like him better than me.”

“Not _better_ , just… different.” she shrugged. “He’s nice, cheerful. Seems honest.” She gave him a pointed look. “Might be just what you need.”

Todd scowled. “You think I’m being too hard on him.”

“I’m not your marriage counselor.”

“Ugh, shut up.”

The music changed, and for the first time all night Ken grinned. “Oh, _man_ ,” he laughed. “I love this song!”

 _“Me too!”_ Dirk beamed, bouncing up and down excitedly.

And then he started singing.

“Oh, God,” Todd whispered, staring in horror as Ken joined in. “They’re really… this is actually Backstreet Boys playing at my party, isn’t it?”

“Yep,” said Farah, obviously trying not to laugh at him.

“And they’re singing.”

“Oh, yes.”

Todd groaned, folded his arms on the counter, and buried his face in them.

“...Hey,” said Farah, aiming for optimism. “At least they’re in tune.”

Dirk had a pretty nice voice, actually. Shame about the song. “I wish I was dead.”

_CRASH!_

Everyone in the room jumped out of their fucking skins. Even the music record-scratched to noisy halt- despite the fact that it was literally playing from Spotify on a laptop. Farah’s hand flew to her holster out of instinct, the gun out and cocked in seconds. “Be careful what you wish for,” she muttered, eyes darting about the room.

Dirk recovered from his shock and bolted for the window, throwing it open and leaning out to survey the street. He ducked back in after a moment, hair wind-ruffled and face alight with a manic grin.

“Todd!” he called, excited and just a _little_ smug. “Guess who just showed up!”

 

* * *

 

**Twenty Minutes Of Low-Key Terror Later**

 

Bart might just be the strangest person Todd had ever met- and he lived under the same roof as Dirk Gently. But where Dirk was manic and whimsical and basically a cartoon character, Bart was… _fucking terrifying._

The crash, as it turned out, had been her ramming her already beat-up car into the side of the Amanda gang’s poorly-parked van. She had climbed out, calm and totally unscathed, shouted back and forth with Dirk from the sidewalk to the window for a few minutes, and then come upstairs. But not before she’d had a chance to yell some threatening shit at a guy across the street who leant of his window to tell them to keep the noise down.

Despite being thin, scruffy and short, she was no less scary up close. There was something sort of… _wild_ about her. From her frizzy hair to her loose-fitting clothes to the vaguely predatory way she watched the room. Not like she was on the _hunt_ , exactly. He didn’t get an awful lot of intent from her. She was more like a panther lazing on a tree branch- relaxed, indifferent, power coiled beneath the surface. Todd had no idea what she did for a living, and he wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to know. Honestly, with the entire world to choose from, he could not have picked a less likely candidate for ‘Dirk Gently’s oldest friend’ if he’d tried.

So it was pretty weird to see Dirk standing next to her, comfortable in her presence and chatting amiably. He didn't reach out to hug or touch her in any way, but he looked more or less at ease. They seemed to be kind of on the same weird wavelength as one another. It was fucking surreal- like watching Kermit the Frog make small talk with... Chucky.

“Wow,” said Farah, hanging back with Todd while Dirk pointed things in their apartment out to Bart. “She’s… not what I was expecting.”

“Right?” Todd muttered, watching them like a nature documentary.

“How did they meet?”

“At school,” he said, recalling his extensive Dirk-trivia lesson a couple weeks ago. “She kicked a lot of bullies’ asses for him, or something.”

“Oh,” she said, and then her eyes widened in some kind of realization. “ _Oh_. Oh, okay. Yeah, that makes sense.”

Todd frowned at her. Was everyone just trying to confuse the fuck out of him tonight? “What? What does?”

Farah looked at him, and shrugged. “You know what? He’ll probably tell you.” She put her beer down on the counter. “I’m gonna head upstairs, see if Amanda still wants us over. I hope so, she seems cool.”

Todd was really starting to feel like he’d missed something. “ _Wha-_ hang on, what makes you think Dirk’s even gonna wanna go up there? He’s been pretty set against it all night.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but that’s when Amanda came charging through the door. “Hey, guys, guess what?” she said excitedly, grinning from ear to ear. “We can get up on the roof! Gripps and Cross dealt with the door!”

“Wait, they fixed it?” Ken asked from his spot on the couch. “I was gonna do that tomorrow…”

“...Well, ‘fixed’ isn’t exactly how I’d put it,” said Amanda. “Point is, it’s open. Roof party! Who’s in?”

“Sounds great,” said Farah, grabbing a nearby case of beer and turning to Dirk. He was chatting to Bart from floor-level while she stood on the coffee table and batted at his homemade glitter ball like a scary cat, cackling as it sent pinpricks of light flying everywhere. “Dirk? Roof?”

Todd was all ready for the inevitable refusal with a new excuse. But to his surprise, Dirk just grinned and said “Absolutely!” as if he hadn’t been vehemently opposed to the idea all night.

“Sweet!” Amanda grinned, already making for the stairs. “I’ll tell the guys!”

“I’ll come with you,” said Farah, hoisting the beer under her arm and setting off in pursuit.

It took Todd a solid minute to move from his spot at the breakfast bar, feeling like he was the last person in the room to put together some kind of puzzle. He finally got up, just as everyone else was making their way to the door. Bart had latched onto Ken now, apparently. He looked a little terrified and was doing a shit job of hiding it, but he was nodding along politely to whatever she was saying so she didn’t seem to care.

Todd caught Dirk’s elbow on his way out, holding him back while the new unlikely duo made their way to the stairs. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Dirk cocked his head in curiosity.

“Why the change of heart? About going upstairs?” Part of him figured he shouldn’t be looking a gift horse in the mouth, but he was pretty sick of feeling like the only one out of the loop.

Dirk shrugged his shiny shoulders. “Well, everything that happened happened, everyone who was supposed to come came. No real reason to stay put anymore.”

“Okay… wait, _no_ , hold up. Are you saying _Bart_ was what we were waiting for? Why did we have to wait down here, specifically? We would have heard that crash from upstairs easy. Or the buzzer, I guess, but she doesn’t seem like the sort of person who uses those.”

Dirk glanced between Bart’s retreating back and the ceiling, which was still vibrating with the sounds of heavy bass. “...Hunch?”

Todd was racking his brains trying to figure out what the hell was going through everyone's heads. Why did Dirk need Bart around before they could go upstairs? Why did the thing about Bart at school tip Farah off? Why was Dirk still glancing at Bart and twitching as if he wanted to follow before they could get too separated- oh.

“Dirk,” said Todd, the pieces falling into place. “Were you… were you waiting for your scary friend to show up because you’re scared of Amanda’s friends?”

“What? No!” Dirk said with an incredibly phony laugh. He knocked it off when Todd gave him a look. “...Well, _yes_. A bit.”

Todd glowered. “This wasn’t a universe thing at all, was it?”

“Well, I mean, technically _everything_ is a universe thing given that we’re _in_ the universe,” Dirk babbled, apparently caught somewhere between embarrassed and condescending. “But in my usual context, no, I suppose this wasn’t _technically_ a universe thing. Technically.”

“So you’ve just been lying to me all night?”

“Not lying, just… embellishing a little.” He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, glancing nervously after Bart as she disappeared round the banister with Ken. “Now, is that all? Can we get going? They’re going to get started without us.”

He was _really_ anxious about going up there without Bart. Annoyed as he was, Todd found himself softening just a little. He sighed, crossing his arms. “Okay. Okay, we’ll catch up to her. Just, don’t lie next time, okay? If you really didn’t wanna go I wouldn’t have, like, _forced_ you. I’m not gonna make you hang out with a bunch of guys that creep you out just ‘cause I hate S Club 7, ‘kay? I know I’m kind of an asshole but I’m not that petty.” He frowned. “I don’t think...”

Dirk stopped glancing anxiously at the stairs a minute to look at Todd with confusion. “I don’t think you’re an arsehole. I know you wouldn’t- well, I _think_ I know you wouldn’t do that.”

“Okay- so why all the lying?”

Dirk shrugged, eyes darting about again. “I just… didn’t want to disappoint you.”

That… wasn’t the answer Todd had been expecting. Sometimes, when he was all caught up being annoyed with Dirk for his bluster and cluelessness and tactless babbling, he forgot that the guy was… well, actually pretty fucking nice. “Hey,” he said, a bit quieter. “You wouldn’t have… I mean, I would’ve been okay. It’s not like I’m super invested in Amanda or her friends, y’know? I barely know them.”

Dirk met his eyes with a tentative smile and nod. “Thank you, Todd. I appreciate that.”

Todd nodded and glanced towards the stairs again. “We’d better get going. Unless…” He shrugged. “Unless you wanna skip it.” Dirk look confused, so he elaborated. “I mean, if you really don’t wanna hang out with those guys, we can… I dunno, watch TV and leave the others to it. If you want. I don’t want you to be like…” the emotional honesty of the moment was starting to make his skin crawl a little. He wasn’t even sure where any of this was fucking coming from but it was weirdly hard to stop once he’d started. “Uncomfortable, or whatever.”

“Well…” Dirk was looking at him like he was deeply touched and trying very hard not to show it. “Thank you, Todd. But it’s alright.”

Bart’s voice drifted down the stairs, yelling something to Ken about… Chinese food? Dirk grinned. “I think I’ll be fine. None of those stompy people are the scariest person in the room anymore.”

“Dirk,” said Todd with a wry smile. “Farah showed up two hours ago. They haven’t been the scariest people in the room for a _long_ time.”

They shared a look, and burst out laughing.

Todd honestly couldn’t explain it. He was still mad at Dirk for lying, and low-key guilty for pressuring him in the first place. But there was something so _surreal_ about the moment, about hanging out in the hallway at half past midnight, comparing their weird scary friends, drunk on alcohol and the knowledge that the night was only just beginning. It felt like it’d be weird _not_ to laugh, somehow. He wondered if this feeling followed Dirk wherever he went- this feeling of being confused and giddy and just a little out of step with reality. It wasn’t quite like anything he’d ever felt before.

It was also, he had to admit, not _entirely_ unpleasant.

Recovering from the giggle fit, Todd nodded to the stairs with a smirk. “Wanna go hang out and drink beer with some crazy guys and scary women?”

Dirk snorted, matching his expression. “More than anything else in the _world_.”

 

* * *

 

 **Way Way** **_Way_ ** **Past Everyone's Bedtime**

 

Apparently when Amanda had said that Gripps and Cross ‘dealt with’ the door, what she meant was they had torn it clean off its hinges. But she didn’t seem to care, and fuck it, it was _her_ building.

‘The Rowdies’, as Amanda called them, were no less intimidating the second time round. And they didn’t seem too happy about the fact that their van had been t-boned either. But whatever scary apex predator vibe Bart gave off was enough to get them to let it go with a few growls (and in the leader’s case, a grumpy but respectful nod).

After the initial awkwardness subsided and a lot more beer had been consumed, the night went from being bearable to actually being pretty fucking fun. Bart mostly kept to herself, although she talked to Ken a lot- he did a pretty okay job of looking politely interested and not paralyzed with fear. She also made a point of wrestling every single Rowdy at least once. Farah danced more than Todd had ever seen her dance- mainly because Amanda kept dragging her out of her seat to do it. The Rowdies, unable to find much to break on the deserted roof, mainly joined in with the dancing- except for Martin, who spent most of the night in a Cool Guy Slouch, smoking like a chimney. But everyone seemed happy getting to know one another, and no one really wanted to be the first to say goodnight. Not even Todd.

It was coming up to four in the morning, and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. He’d retreated to the side, sitting against the low perimeter wall and watching the others with a sleepy (and slightly stoned- turned out Amanda was an _incredibly_ chill landlady and also more than happy to share her pot brownies) smile. It didn’t take him long to regret his decision. Sitting on the concrete wasn’t exactly cosy. It wasn’t long before his body cooled down from the beer and dancing and he was shivering. He should have worn a thicker jacket…

He blinked his bleary eyes fully open as he felt a weight settle on his shoulders. Something glittery caught his eye. Dirk’s stupid jacket. “Thanks,” he murmured, too sleepy and high to get defensive about being coddled.

Dirk sat down beside him gingerly, close enough that Todd could feel his nonchalant shrug. “You looked cold.”

“It _is_ February,” Todd chuckled. It was probably way colder than any of them realised- they were just too drunk and happy to really care. In his experience, hangovers and hypothermia were problems for the morning after.

Dirk laughed too, although it was punctuated by a little shiver. Well, if he was gonna give up his only jacket and then sit on the the cold hard ground. “Didn’t think this through did you?” said Todd.

“Rarely do.”

Todd snorted, letting his head roll back. It was a little too heavy to hold up just now. The wall wasn’t a super comfortable place for it, though. He groaned, letting it flop to the side. It landed on something much softer and warmer this time. He leaned heavily into it, not immediately realizing that the soft warm thing was Dirk’s shoulder. But the guy didn’t seem to mind too much. Todd probably would, in the morning when he’d sobered up and picked up the scraps of his pride. But, like hangovers and hypothermia, that was tomorrow’s problem. It was… it was nice.

No, this… this had been a good night. It was different, kinda, to what he was used to, but not.. not in a bad way. They weren’t so bad, all these crazy people. And he’d gone, like, at least three whole hours without being sad about the band, which was _awesome!_ Except he was thinking about them and feeling sad now, so he’d broken his streak, but… well. He’d tried.

It was a good start, he guessed.

“Todd?” said Dirk softly, dazedly.

“Mm?”

“...I am off my bloody tits.”

“Did you have one of Amanda’s brownies?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“...Yeah, okay, maybe take it easy there, buddy.”

 

* * *

 

**A Damn Good Party And Several Hours Of Drunken Slumber Later**

 

Dirk woke to rays of sunlight stabbing him in the eyes like cheerful sadistic daggers. He groaned, rolling over and burying his face in his pillow. Except it wasn’t a pillow because it was a balled-up hoodie. Because apparently he’d fallen just short of the bed and conked out on the floor. And now he’d rolled himself into an uncomfortable position and whacked his elbow on the bedpost to boot. Bloody fantastic.

The pain combined with the insistence of his full bladder and empty stomach dragged him kicking and screaming from dreamland, and he staggered to his feet with no small amount of grumbling. His head swam a little as he did so, but he steadied himself with a hand on the wall. He kept it there as he picked his way tentatively out of his bedroom- he didn’t trust the light not to blind him if he let his eyes open fully. First stop, bathroom.

It took far longer to get there than it should have, and by the time he’d relieved himself the prospect of fifteen whole steps to make it to the kitchen almost made him want to cry. But he persevered. Frankly he'd walk through actual _fire_ for a cup of tea and some toast right now.

Kettle on and toaster humming, he flopped over the breakfast bar with a heavy groan.

The answering groan from the couch would have made him jump if he'd been in any state to do such a thing. He lifted his head slowly, catching a glimpse of a pair of arms stretching over the end of the sofa.

Then the arms disappeared, there was a moment of shuffling and then Todd's face emerged as he sat up, Dirk's sparkly jacket sliding off him. He blinked dazedly, eyes travelling the apartment until they landed on Dirk. "Mornin'."

 _"Ugh,"_ Dirk responded eloquently, flopping back onto the bar.

Todd chuckled, dry and croaky, fumbling around for something. Dirk wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he had the strangest feeling he’d find it- “In your shoe,” he mumbled, dragging himself to the toaster as it popped loudly. God, why was everything so _loud?_

Todd frowned, shoving Dirk’s jacket aside and staggering to his feet. He took a few shaky steps over to where his Converses had been haphazardly kicked off at five a.m., shaking one out over his hand and grunting in triumph when his phone fell out. “How did you-?”

Dirk shrugged. “Hunch.”

“Right,” Todd muttered, rolling his eyes as he rummaged behind the TV for his charger.

The kettle clicked off, billowing steam that was _definitely_ too hot to be blasted in the face with on a hangover, and Dirk reached for the mugs. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Phone plugged in, Todd stumbled over to the breakfast bar with a yawn and a wince as his back clicked. “Ouch.”

“Sleep well?”

“Yeah. Couch probably wasn’t a great idea though.” He sagged onto one of the barstools, propping his chin in his hand. “How about you?”

“Like a very drunk baby,” said Dirk poured out the steaming water, wincing as his bruised elbow twinged. “Was nice. And then awakeness happened.”

“Sucks.” Todd sipped his too-hot coffee with a wince. “But this whole thing was _your_ idea, anyway.”

Dirk smirked over his tea. “Admit it, you had fun.”

“It-” Todd narrowed his eyes, inclining his head slightly- “wasn’t _as_ terrible as I thought it would be.”

It was a pretty backhanded compliment-slash-concession of defeat. But it was just about the closest Todd had ever come to admitting Dirk was right about something, so he took it with a grin and a triumphant gulp of tea. _“Ah- hot!”_ he squeaked, spitting it back into the mug and dribbling it down his chin.

Not his finest moment.

But it prompted Todd’s second laugh of the morning, so it wasn’t all bad.

“Ugh,” Todd groaned as his outburst caused another head twinge. “Y’know what, _fuck this_ , I’m going to bed.”

Dirk nodded, giving him a little wave as he slipped past to their rooms. Bed sounded nice, but he was far too awake now to consider the possibility. He’d just have to get on with something while Todd napped. He could clean up the empty bottles, peel off all the tinfoil and set the apartment to rights, that would be a productive thing to do.

And, as his laptop still perched on the coffee table with Spotify open reminded him, there was _always_ more writing to be done.

...Hmm.

"You know what," he muttered, putting his plate aside. He'd somewhat lost his appetite. "Maybe I _will_ go for a little nap."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Dirk...


	5. Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dirk and Todd get off their arses.
> 
> WARNINGS: swearing, smoking, alcohol, quarter-life crisis angst, simulated violence. REFERENCES TO: sex, animal death, anxiety attacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a TOUCH more drama now ;)

**April**

 

Sharing an apartment with one roommate instead of three was, as Todd was beginning to find out, kind of a mixed blessing.

It was pretty awesome sometimes. There was less mess, fewer sex noises (not including the fake ones he and Dirk made on occasion to keep up the dating charade), and less fighting over who got the first shower- although Todd kind of won that one by default. Dirk was _not_ a morning person. He was barely even an afternoon person. Sometimes Todd even wondered if ‘person’ was the right word.

And there were times when it was… _less_ awesome. With only two of them, there was no one there to act as a buffer when they bickered. And when they had disputes over domestic shit like doing the dishes or hoovering the floor, fifty percent of the time it was actually because it was Todd’s turn to do those things in the first place. It was harder than ever before to shirk his responsibilities with nowhere else to shift the blame. He knew it was probably about time he learned how to take care of his own goddamn house, but… still.

The very worst thing, though, about this new two-way flat share situation, was that Dirk Gently was the other half of the deal. Or maybe it was the best thing. He hadn’t actually figured that out yet. But good or bad, Dirk was an unknown quantity, and his behaviour could be… erratic.

Three times a week was _definitely_ way too often to be tripping over face-planting journalists in the hall.

“Dirk!” he snapped, catching himself against the wall before he could go completely over. “What the hell?!”

“Sorry,” said Dirk, voice muffled in the carpet. “Just needed to… lie somewhere.”

“You know, there’s a bed and a couch that are both great for that,” said Todd, nudging him none-too-gently with his toe. He was _seriously_ a hazard to himself and others collapsed in the corridor like that. He’d send Amanda flying if she came charging down without looking like she always did. Although he supposed that’d be harder now, what with the couch lodged in the stairwell up to her apartment. It had been there since the night of the party; no one knew how to move it or even how it _got_ there. The smart money was on the Rowdies, but everyone had been pretty out of it- it could have been any combination of them.

Dirk had ‘investigated’ the matter for all of two days before getting bored and giving up. And yet still he wondered why no one would _pay_ him to do this stuff.

“Didn’t quite make it that far,” said Dirk, rolling onto his back and gazing at Todd forlornly. “Stop poking me.”

“Get up, then.”

Dirk made no attempts to sit; just held his arms up above his head and wiggled his fingers.

Todd managed to hold his glare for a grand total of ten seconds. But he knew, in his heart of hearts, that when Dirk got like this he had no choice but to take matters into his own hands. Literally.

And so with an exasperated sigh he caught Dirk’s hands in his own, braced himself, and dragged the melodramatic asshole into the apartment himself.

“Tremendous assisting, Todd,” Dirk mumbled, but his heart wasn’t in the teasing.

Todd only dragged him far enough into the living room to be clearly visible and easy to work around before dumping him like a sack of potatoes. “What’s got you all depressed today?” he asked, returning to the grocery bags he’d dropped in favor of shifting his comatose roommate. Yes, he actually _went outside_ and _bought groceries._ Real ones. He figured he was finally starting to get used to this kind of thing. He didn’t just go to the store to buy chips, dip and tobacco anymore (although he did get all of those things). No, there was pasta and cereal and even some goddamn _apples_ in there because he was a _responsible adult_ who ate fruit and remembered shit and- ah, _fuck,_ he forgot the milk… well. He remembered _most_ shit.

Dirk, still lying despondent on the floor, shrugged and fiddled with the end of his tie. “I’m just… loose. Directionless.”

“Isn’t that, y’know, your… thing? Your ‘leaf in the stream of creation’ thing?”

“It’s been rather a _sluggish_ stream lately,” said Dirk miserably, letting his hands flop to the floor again. “And I think my leaf’s been washed up on the riverbank.”

“Maybe you need to… I dunno, get out more,” Todd suggested (even though that was kind of pot-calling-the-kettle-black statement), opening the fridge to put away some stuff. He took out the existing carton of milk, took an experimental sniff and wrinkled his nose. “You could start by doing the grocery shopping once in a while. Hell, even just a  _walk_ would probably do you good. I know you probably miss London or whatever, but there’s stuff to see in this city, too.”

“I don’t _miss_ London,” said Dirk, rolling onto his front to once again bury his face in the carpet. “Well, not exactly. It was familiar. And comfortable. And people made my tea the way I like it and the currency made sense and so did the way people measure the temperature and everyone was less angry- well, no, they were just as angry but they were too polite or awkward to do anything about it so no one yelled at me and... alright, so maybe I miss it a _little_ bit.”

“You need to take your mind off it. See the sights. Go to the movies. Hey, didn’t you go for a job interview the other day?”

Dirk stiffened. “…Yes.”

“And?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why, what happened?”

Dirk grumbled indistinctly into the carpet. Todd sighed. “Right, yeah, you don’t wanna talk about it. Okay. Well, my point still stands- lying around isn’t gonna help. You want signs from the universe? Go find some. Move around, talk to people! Sitting on your ass isn’t gonna get you anywhere.”

“I’m not on my arse,” Dirk countered, raising his finger without looking up. “I’m on my _front.”_

If he’d bothered to lift his face from the floor, he might have seen the apple Todd threw at it.

_“Aooooowwwwww!”_

 

* * *

 

**Three Or So Fruity Projectiles Later**

 

In the end, Dirk had to concede the point to Todd. He really _wasn’t_ going to find his life’s purpose lying on the floor. Not unless the hypothetical lice in the carpets had something to say on the matter. It only took about three more wallops to the head to get him on his feet and shuffling off in search of… something.

He moseyed on down to Ken’s apartment first, but the man was nowhere to be found. He’d left his apartment door open, though, which seemed like an odd thing to do if one was going out. But he looked around a while and found nothing but a lot of baffling techy bits and pieces and an odd shuffling, scratching noise from inside the wall.

Then the shuffling and scratching turned into a thud and a muffled ‘god _dammit’_.

Dirk frowned, wandered over to the wall and pressed his ear against it. “Ken? Are you in the wall?”

“…No?”

“Oh, no judgement!” Dirk hastily reassured him. “Although I have to say, I never knew you were such a wall enthusiast! How’s the view behind there?”

“I’m not a- no, no I’m just tryna fix- _dammit!_ Uh, yeah, Dirk, maybe you should come back later, it’s kinda… I’m, uh, gonna be in here a while.”

He didn’t seem awfully keen on the idea when Dirk offered to climb in there and help, so instead he sloped off dejectedly to find something else to occupy his time.

After a bit more wandering and an awkward climb over the Stairwell Sofa, he found himself at Amanda’s. She was home, which was good. And not currently inhabiting the drywall, which was _very_ good. He’d never really considered that to be a requirement of decent conversation before, but you learned something new every day. He couldn’t say he was surprised to find her at home on a Saturday afternoon, though. He’d not noticed her leave the building _once_ since they’d moved in.

He was starting to realise that he lived with some very _odd_ people.

“Yeah I, uh, guess I don’t really go outside anymore,” she said when he asked about it, rummaging through her kitchen cabinets for something.

“Why not?”

“I kinda had, like, an _episode_ a few years back,” she said, with a little ‘a-ha!’ of triumph when she excavated a bottle of red wine from a cupboard above the fridge. “I mean, I always used to get anxiety attacks and stuff but _this…_ this was like some next level shit, y’know? Ever since then my paranoia’s just, like, shot through the _roof._ It’s always worse when I’m outside, though, so I just… don’t go outside. Kinda easier that way.”

“I’m sorry, that’s terrible,” said Dirk sympathetically. And he meant it- Amanda seemed like the type of person who would be much happier being out and about and terrorising the neighbourhood, not cooped up in her big, lonely apartment full of empty bottles.

“Eh, it’s okay,” she shrugged, flopping down on the couch and uncorking the bottle. “I mean, I kinda missed it at first but you just… get used to it, I guess. And the boys help me out.”

“Ah, yes, the… what was it you called them again?”

“The Rowdies.” She smiled. “It was just, like, a stupid running joke a few years ago but, I dunno, I guess it kinda stuck. Can you grab a couple glasses? Cabinet by the sink.”

“The Rowdies,” Dirk repeated cautiously as he did what she asked. “Yes, they seem…nice.”

She snorted. “You don’t need to sugar-coat it. They’re assholes.”

“Then why do you-?”

“They’re good guys, when you get to know ‘em,” she said quickly, as if she was pretty used to explaining this by now. “And they look out for me. If I ever go outside, it’s ‘cause I’m with them- kinda doesn’t feel like you’re outside when you got four tough guys surrounding you like an obnoxious human barricade, y’know?” She smiled fondly as she took the glasses he offered her. “They’re kinda like my dumb big brothers now. I dunno what I’d do without ‘em. They’re family, you know? We take care of each other.”

“Must be nice,” said Dirk glumly, slumping onto her beanbag with a sigh.

“What’s up, man?” Amanda asked, pouring a couple of glasses of wine. “You seem stressed out.”

He shrugged. “At a bit of a loose end. It sounds silly but I think it’s only just starting to sink in. Being in another country, that is. Sometimes it feels like I’ve moved to a different  _planet,_ or just another plane of existence altogether. And I haven’t had a case in God knows how long, and I keep trying to write but the words are swimming off the page and my _fingers_ won’t cooperate, and…” he groaned, head flopping back to stare at the ceiling. “I suppose I’m just… not adapting quite the way I hoped I would. Turns out this moving business is a lot harder than you’d think.”

She nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, man, that sucks. But hey, at least you’ve got your boyfriend looking out for you!”

 _And throwing apples at me._ “Yes…”

“Is… everything okay?” she said, frowning. “With you and Todd?”

_Oh, shit._

“Yes!” he exclaimed, lurching forward and flailing his hands. “Everything’s- everything’s _fine!_ No breakups here!”

“Whoa, whoa, who said anything about a _breakup?”_

 _SHIT._ “You did. Didn’t you?”

“Noooooooo…”

“Well… good. Because there isn’t one. Wasn’t one.”

She was looking at him a bit like he’d grown an extra head and it was trying to explain the theory of relativity through the medium of yodeling. “O-kay. Right. Cool. Well, I mean, y’know I’m here. If you need to talk, or if there’s anything I can do to, like, help or…”

“Oh, we’re fine! We’re _absolutely_ fine! We just need, ah…” what, what _did_ they need? Space? No, that sounded too breakup-y. Time? Same problem. A… wider range of sex positions? Oh, bloody hell, why couldn’t he have just said they were fine and left it at that?! Now the room was too quiet, and Amanda was staring and he needed to say _something_ because right now the only noises to be heard were the too-loud ticking of the clock on the wall and the incessant barking of the dog from three doors down- “A dog.”

“You…” she blinked. “Need a _dog?”_

“Yes!” he beamed. He wasn’t quite sure what possessed him to say it, but now the idea had taken root in his mind he was rather taken with it. “We need a dog! Or similar small, fluffy animal. I think it would help us stay together, you know? Strengthen our relationship! It’d be like having a child! Well, it’d be a little bit hairier. Wilder, smellier. _Definitely_ cuter! So… can we? Have a dog here?”

Amanda was still looking at him a bit oddly, but she seemed brighter. Like the extra head on his shoulder had given up the difficult science lectures and reverted to show tunes. “Huh. Yeah, sure. Why not?”

Dirk grinned, taking the glass of wine she offered and clinking it cheerily against hers.

Well, it wasn’t quite the turn of fate he’d been expecting, but he wasn’t complaining!

 

* * *

 

**A Few Too Many Afternoon Drinks Later**

 

When he returned to the flat, it was to find Todd glaring at the TV with a sour expression, jabbing the buttons and joysticks on his Xbox controller like it had personally offended him. He didn’t even look up when Dirk called his name. He had to call it _seven more times_ just to get his attention, which seemed to annoy Todd even more.

“Oh, my God, _what?”_ Todd exclaimed, throwing the controller down angrily and not seeming to care that the woman on screen was apparently under attack from a large and scary teapot.

“Guess what?”

“You finally remembered where you buried your slippers?”

“What? No! But thanks for reminding me, I ought to get on that. No, even better! Go on, have another guess!”

“Dirk, just fucking say what you’re gonna say.”

Dirk rolled his eyes and gave in, flopping down onto the sofa beside Todd with a grin. “Amanda says we can have a _dog!”_

Todd’s forehead went all crinkly. “…What?”

“A dog! Small fluffy yappy thing! We can have one! Isn’t that _fantastic?”_

“Wait, hang on, why were you even asking- no, wait, sorry, okay. Just… _why?”_

“It just sort of came up,” said Dirk, cocking his head. “You sound… are you… _mad_ at me?”

Todd’s answering glower had ‘yes’ written all over it. “Well, you could have come and _talked_ to me about it before you just _decided_ we were getting a dog.”

“Don’t you want a dog?”

“No. No, not really.”

Dirk stared at him, aghast. _“Why?”_

Well, on the upside Todd didn’t look mad anymore- but mainly because now he looked uncomfortable and a little embarrassed. “…Doesn’t matter. Look, Dirk, you can’t just go round making decisions for both of us like-“

 _“Todd,”_ said Dirk, leaning in close. “Are you _scared_ of dogs?”

“No!” Todd hastily defended, red-faced. “I’m not-! Not… exactly. I just, I had a bad experience, okay?”

“What kind of bad experience?” Dirk pressed, resting his chin on his hands and listening intently. Just when he thought he was done learning interesting things about his flatmate! But, that was Todd Brotzman; full of surprises!

Todd deliberated a moment, before sighing and picking up his controller again to play as he talked. “I had a dog when I was a kid. Sneakers.”

“Did he bite you?”

“No, never,” said Todd, smiling slightly. “He was the sweetest dog on earth. He used to… he used to do these cute little back flips, and snuggle up to me in bed and lick my ear. He was my best friend.”

“So, what’s the matter? Because that sounds, well, rather _pleasant_ to me…”

“He, uh. He died. When I was eleven. Drowned in the swimming pool.”

“Oh… I’m sorry, Todd. That’s awful.”

“Yeah… never went near it again. I haven’t been swimming in, like, over ten years.”

“Well,” said Dirk with a confused frown. “That certainly explains why you might be afraid of swimming pools, but… _dogs?”_

“It wasn’t exactly Sneakers dying that freaked me out,” said Todd, and the embarrassment was back tenfold in his voice. “It was more… what came next.”

“What?”

“I… I got real depressed, when Sneakers died. I didn’t sleep, I didn’t _eat,_ and my dad was always trying to cheer me up. He’d take me out to the park and we’d play catch, every day, like me and Sneakers used to. He insisted on it.”

“Well, that’s… nice?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it would have been,” said Todd, definitely avoiding eye contact. “If he’d, y’know… maybe taken off the dog costume.”

Dirk blinked. Processed a minute. Found a minute really wasn’t enough. “…Beg your pardon?”

Todd had started twiddling the controls with a little extra fervour. His character on screen disappeared with a scream and a baffling explosion of butterflies. Come to think of it, she’d been doing that repeatedly since Dirk had come in, on account of Todd throwing her into the lava. “He… I don’t know, he knew I missed Sneakers, he found the suit somewhere, he just… wore it. All the time, for a while. And not just round the house. Once he walked me to school in it.”

_“Blimey.”_

Todd nodded, expression haunted. “It… was a rough time. Kinda put me off dogs, honestly.”

“So,” said Dirk, wide-eyed. “Now you’re scared of dogs _and_ swimming pools?”

“And furries.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah…”

Silence descended, punctuated by the shrill scream of the nicely-dressed virtual woman dying again. Dirk frowned, nodding towards the telly. “Is she supposed to be doing that?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

Todd narrowed his eyes, plunging her into the lava again. “On whether you’re playing to win, or playing to take your mind off the fact that the band that ditched you just got signed to a fucking record label with one of the songs you fucking wrote for them.”

“Your song? _Really?_ Todd, that’s _fantastic!”_

 _“Their_ song. I’ve been cut the fuck off.”

“…So, you’re not very happy about it, then?”

“ _No._ And now I wanna kill things.”

Dirk sighed, watching the woman magically re-materialize on the floating platform thingy. She was, of course, immediately hurled to her doom again. “Maybe a dog would be good for you,” he suggested, prodding Todd’s shoulder. “Give you something else to think about.”

“Got loads to think about, thanks.”

“A _positive_ thing.” Dirk leaned in closer, giving Todd a meaningful look. “Come on, Todd. You spent all morning telling _me_ off for wallowing!”

“Why are you pushing so hard for this? I’ve _never_ heard you talk about wanting a dog!”

“It just feels _right,_ Todd! Feels like this is the right thing to do.”

“What,” said Todd, voice dry as a bone. “A ‘hunch’?”

“Yes! First I’ve had in weeks! I can’t afford to let it slip away!” Dirk leaned in as close as he dared, pleading with his eyes. “Please?”

“That’s… really not a good enough reason to get a dog.”

“I’ll look after it! I’ll feed it and walk it, I’ll do everything, I promise! You won’t have to lift a _finger!_ So, please?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on, please?”

_“No.”_

_"Please?”_

“Oh, my fu- _fine!”_ Todd threw down his controller in exasperation and defeat- or sweet, sweet victory, as Dirk liked to call it. “But it’s _your dog,_ I have zero fucking responsibility.”

Dirk clapped his hands excitedly, resisting the urge to envelop Todd in a hug- he reckoned that’d be a quick and easy way to make him _revoke_ his permission. “Yes! Thanks, Todd- ooh, you want to come and help me choose one?”

“What did I _just_ say?”

“Hey, I am being _polite-_ wouldn’t want to come home with one you find spooky!”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Todd, picking up the controller again for one more jump-and-burn before tacking on in an unhappy mumble; “Just… don’t get a big one.”

“Small dog, far from human-sized- got it!” Dirk sprang to his feet, going for his jacket and phone. “Ooh, I’ll call Bart! She’ll give me a lift, she loves dogs!”

“Seriously?”

“Well, no. But she would, if she spent some time with one!” He shrugged into his green jacket, and then paused to wonder if it was really the right colour for the occasion. What colours did dogs like? Oh, _duh,_ they were colour-blind! Well, that simplified matters. “You could still come, you know- I mean, what _else_ are you going to do? Besides chucking nice girls who never did you any harm into molten lava.”

“I’m meeting Farah later, actually,” said Todd defensively. “We’re going paintballing.”

“Really? I thought she was banned.”

“Yeah, but that was just for six months.”

Dirk frowned. “How does that poor accountant feel about that?”

“He’s, uh,” said Todd with a visible wince. “Still in recovery. PTSD.”

“Right. Well, good luck with that,” said Dirk, rolling his eyes as he tapped Bart’s name in his contacts list. Not that he didn’t absolutely _love_ Farah to pieces and think she was an incredible person, but she could take things just a _lit-tle_ too seriously. “Try not to get arrested!”

“Yeah, you too,” said Todd absentmindedly, as if Dirk had just said ‘take care’ or ‘have a nice day’.

If _that_ wasn’t an accurate summation of their friendship, he didn’t know what was!

 

* * *

 

**A Few Dozen Virtual Murders And A Long Walk Later**

 

“Hey, Farah?”

“Hm?”

Todd looked her up and down apprehensively. _“Please_ tell me you’re not gonna take this too seriously.”

She frowned, clicking her second back-up paintball gun into her custom-ordered holster. “Of course not. We’re just having fun.”

“Right, and that isn’t war paint on your face?”

“…No. No, that’s… eyeshadow.”

“On your cheeks?”

“Yeah, that’s-that’s how people wear it, now.”

Todd sighed and yanked his bootlaces into place. No point trying to teach an old dog new tricks, he guessed. He could only hope that she’d learned her lesson from last time and might think about toning it down a little. It’d be cool if they could make it through at least half the game before getting banned this time…

“Brotzman.”

He stiffened. He knew that voice, knew that _exact_ smug cadence. He turned his head slowly, hoping against hope that he was just mishearing things and that wasn’t really- _"Lux."_

“Hey, there, man,” Lux DuJour said with a smile like a fucking shark, patting Todd’s shoulder a gesture that was _way_ too familiar. “Good to see you. How’s tricks? You look, uh… well-rested.”

 _And you look like a snake in a human suit._ “I, uh- what are you-?”

“Oh, by the way, you left some of your stuff in the house. I mean, I _think_ it’s your stuff- bunch of music I don’t recognize, y’know, not the kind of stuff any of _us_ are into. I’ll drop ‘em by your new place in the car, huh? Save you the hassle.”

By now Todd had recovered from his shock enough to set his jaw and glare. “Great. Yeah, great, that’s- that’s real fucking big of you, Lux. Thanks, thanks a lot.”

Lux cocked his head in a simpering pout that made Todd want to kick his stupid teeth in (even more than he already did). “Todd, man- why so sour? I didn’t want there to be any hard feelings between us; s’just business, y’know? Water under the bridge, huh, don’t you think?”

Todd knew _exactly_ what he wanted to say to that, but Farah got in first. “I don’t, uh, think Todd thinks that. Like, at all.”

“No. Not, not really.”

“Hey, I wasn’t _trying_ to replace you, man,” said Lux, and it sounded too much like a purr to even approach sincere. “But these things happen, people change. Sometimes you just gotta go with it, roll the dice. It all worked out, right? I mean, me and the band are going _all_ the way to the top this time. And you, you…” he looked Todd up and down with amusement. “You get some, uh, _me time.”_

Everything inside him was screaming to fucking deck the bastard. But something got lost in translation between his brain and his body and all he could do was just… _stand there,_ face burning with shame. It was true, all of it. The band were doing great without him, and he… well, what the fuck was he doing? He was a fucking nobody in a dead-end job, living a lie with a wacko off the street. He knew Lux was just trying to get under his skin, but… _damn it_ , it was working.

“I think you’d better get back to your team now, Lux,” said Farah, eye twitching. Todd had a feeling that if he didn’t knock the asshole out, she definitely would.

Lux glanced at their red armbands, smirking and pulling a matching one out of his jumpsuit pocket. “Huh. What d’you know- looks like we’re on the same side.” He tilted his head a little as he secured the band, sun catching the goggles on his head and forcing Todd to squint. “Might be just what we need, huh? Later, Brotzman.”

Todd clenched his fists at his sides. It felt like a strong gesture in his head, but in practice it just felt like the beginnings of an impotent hissy fit. He didn’t trust his mouth to speak; either he’d scream the bunker down and get them escorted out, or he’d say something embarrassingly weak and have more shame to drown in. So he just gave a jerky nod and watched in livid silence as Lux sauntered away somewhere, red armband mocking him with every cocky swing of his shoulders.

Damn it. He could have really done with shooting that asshole in the face.

“Todd?” Farah nudged his elbow. “You… you okay?”

“Yeah,” said Todd, jaw clenched a little too tight to make it believable. “Fine.”

“Is that the first time you’ve seen him since…?”

“Yeah.”

Farah nodded slowly. “Well… good. Y’know, that went… well?”

He gaped at her. She shrugged. “I mean, not _well_ , but you played it… cool?” He continued to gape. “…Or at least, uh, lukewarm.”

Todd sighed, making an effort to unclench his fists. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess… I guess it could have been worse, right? I could’ve flown off the handle, or, like, set fire to him, so… yeah.”

She gave his shoulder a sympathetic pat. “Yeah. Yeah, you did good.” She handed him his gun. “So… what’re you gonna do the _next_ time you see him?”

“I’m gonna set fire to him.”

She gave him a look. He rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding.”

Or at least, he was _half_ kidding.

…Well. Maybe sixty-forty.

 

* * *

 

**Meanwhile, In A Place Full Of Cuteness**

 

“God, this is _exciting!_ ” Dirk babbled with a spring in his step. “I’ve always wanted a dog! Well, I mean, I’ve never actually thought about having one, honestly. But now that I’m thinking about it it’s like, of _course_ I’ve always wanted a dog, you know? I don’t know how I never saw it before! And now, finally, my life-slash-hour-long dream’s about to come true! Oh, I wonder what kind of dog I’ll get?”

Bart frowned. “…There’s different kinds?”

The lady who was showing them around-another Brit, in fact! Just what he needed to hear on a day like today- frowned too. “I hope you’ve thought this through- a dog’s a full-time commitment. Are you sure you’re prepared to give it the time and attention it needs?”

“Pfft, I’ve got nothing _but_ time!” Dirk snorted. “And my attention span is just- _ohmyGodlookatthatone!”_

He was stopping at just about every single cage. He couldn’t help it! They were all adorable, in their strange and unique ways. That one was really tall, that one was really fat, that one had a lazy eye- honestly, they were all such _characters,_ he hadn’t the foggiest idea how he’d ever narrow it down!

“Hello!” he cooed, kneeling down by a cage to grin at its inhabitant. A lovely orange corgi with big brown eyes. Surprisingly intelligent eyes, he thought. He poked his finger through the wire mesh. “Dirk Gently, pleased to meet you!”

He actually let out a little squeal of delight when the dog raised a paw and booped his finger.

“I see you’ve met Rapunzel,” the woman said, hovering by his side.

“She’s so polite!” he gushed, reaching in again and receiving another pseudo-handshake.

“Yes, she’s a good girl,” the woman said, shaking her head sadly. “It’s her last day here, actually.”

“Oh. Has someone adopted her already?”

“No, but dogs only stay with us for limited time.”

“Ah. Well, where do they go after that?”

The woman gave him a look of surprise, and then it took a backseat to a look of discomfort. “Uh… heaven?”

Dirk frowned, processing. “…A gay club?”

She stared at him like he’d just told her the sky was neon yellow. Even Bart was watching him kind of pityingly, which was _odd_ because usually _she_ was the last to catch on in these sorts of situations. “No,” the woman said, shaking her head. “I mean, we can only keep them for a certain amount of time. After that we need to make room for other dogs with better adoption chances and… well. Put them down.”

His stomach dropped. “Put them down? As in…?”

She nodded sadly. Bart inappropriately mimed cocking a gun to her head.

He turned to face little Rapunzel, meeting her soulful brown eyes and finding the call of the universe waiting there. He knew what he had to do.

“Don’t worry, Rapunzel,” he whispered, determined. “We’re taking you away from this place.”

He stood bolt upright, whirled round, and pointed his finger imperiously at the cage. “Open this door, dog murder lady!”

 

* * *

 

**Meanwhile, In The Heat Of Battle**

 

There were an awful lot of things that made Todd feel guilty, and thanking God for Farah’s failure to make it in the military was one of them. She was his friend, after all, and he wanted her to be able to follow her dreams without failed psych tests and dishonourable discharges getting in the way.

But then he saw the way she slaughtered the opposition left, right and centre with single-minded determination, deadly accuracy and ruthless intensity, and he shuddered to think what she’d be capable of if she had free reign to use anything more lethal than red paint.

“Get down!” she yelled, grabbing a nearby teammate by the shoulder and yanking him to the ground behind the low log wall. She took cover too, but not before releasing another rain of crimson pain over the opposition.

“Shit,” Todd huffed, narrowly avoiding several blue projectiles on his way to her side. “They’re everywhere!”

“They’re not just in the jungle,” said Farah, eyes narrowing. “They _are_ the jungle.”

“Wow,” the guy Farah’d just saved from being splattered laughed nervously and adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses beneath his goggles as he looked between them. “You guys really know what you’re doing, huh?”

“Well, let’s just say last time I was in this situation-“ Farah loudly reloaded her gun for dramatic effect. “I wasn’t using a paintball gun.”

“My God, you’ve- you’ve seen _combat?”_

“Damn right.”

“Woah. Where?”

“On TV.”

“…But, you just… you just said last time _you_ were in this situation you weren’t using a paintball gun.”

“She wasn’t,” said Todd, risking a glance over the wall.

The guy looked really confused. “Well, what did you use?”

Farah had the decency to look a little guilty. “Uh. Yeah, it was… it was a branch.”

“Practically the entire tree,” Todd muttered, rolling his eyes. “We, uh, only just got un-banned.”

“We’re not gonna take any ground sitting here,” said Farah, nodding at both of them in turn. “Stay down, I’ll go thin the herd.”

“No way!” the guy grinned, raising his gun. “I came to play, not sit around! Don’t wait up!”

“No, don’t-!”

But Todd’s warning came too late.

The second the guy stood up, his chest became a seeping mass of paint. He sagged to the ground, limp and lifeless.

Todd had to give him kudos for his commitment to the bit.

“Another one bites the dust,” Farah muttered, double-checking her gun. “Those guys aren’t fucking around.”

“Wait a second.” Todd stared at the guy’s chest in confusion. His very _red_ chest. “Shouldn’t that be blue?”

Farah peered at the livid splatter, brow furrowed. “Friendly fire. They probably didn’t notice the armbands-“

“Or,” said Todd grimly, catching a glimpse of a familiar smug grin before it disappeared behind a tree. “That paintball was meant for me.”

“Lux?”

“Yeah.” Todd cursed under his breath and slid back to the ground. “’Water under the bridge’, my ass. He’s gonna try and take me out of the game whether I’m on his team or not.”

“Little _rat,”_ Farah spat, unclipping one of her back-up guns. “C’mon, let’s make that asshole eat paint!”

“Farah, stop!” Todd yelped, grabbing her sleeve and shaking his head. “He’s got the advantage, he’ll shoot us the second we step outside. And, and if anyone sees us shoot a team member we’ll get disqualified, anyway, so-“

“So, what, you’re just gonna _sit here_ and let him get away with killing whatshisname?”

“Oh, I’m Weedle,” the guy chimed in from the mud, fiddling with his glasses and paint-splattered goggles again. “I mean, that’s my last name, but no one calls me by my first one anymore- it’s kind of a funny story-“

“Shut up, you’re dead.”

“Sorry.”

“Todd,” said Farah, putting a hand on his shoulder and meeting his eyes. “The guy’s a slime, and he thinks he can get away with anything. Now, are you gonna _let_ him, or are you gonna get up off your ass and _shoot him in the face?”_

“Jesus, Farah, you’re gonna get us banned again-“

_“Well?”_

“Argh, _no!”_ Todd snapped, yanking his arm out of her grip. “It wouldn’t _solve_ anything, he’s already won! He got the band, he got the _house,_ he got- everything! He got everything! That’s it, I don’t wanna think about it anymore, can we just _drop_ it?

Farah stared him down, and pursed her lips. “Fine. Well, if you won’t stand up for yourself-“ she raised a gun in each hand, eyes alight with purpose. “Guess it’s down to me.”

“Farah, wait-!”

But once again he was too late. Farah and both her guns were off like a shot, bolting from the shelter of the log wall and into the unknown. He heard a volley of enemy fire, but had no way of knowing if she’d been hit. Nothing he could do about it if she had. But if she hadn’t…

He had to go after her. She was his friend, and she was standing up for him for some godforsaken reason. He’d have to be a total asshole not to go help.

On the other hand, getting shot in the head by Lux DuJour would be the final fucking nail in the battered coffin of his self-esteem.

Arguably, so would hiding and waiting meekly for this entire fight to blow over.

 _“Come on, Todd. You spent all morning telling_ me _off for wallowing!”_

The little echo of Dirk in his head showed up totally unbidden and wouldn’t leave- kinda like the man himself. It reverberated in his mind amidst the scattered gunshots and the wind through the trees, tugging at his sleeve and refusing to let go.

Todd raised his gun, clutching it in a white-knuckled grip, and closed his eyes a second.

“…I fucking hate it when you’re right.”

He gritted his teeth, opened his eyes, and threw himself out into no-man’s land.

 

**To Be Continued...**

 


	6. Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Todd takes a stand, and Dirk makes discoveries.
> 
> WARNINGS: swearing, smoking, quarter-life crisis angst, simulated violence REFERENCES TO: drugs, animal death, sex/porn

**A Slow Walk For Short Legs Later**

 

“And _this_ is your new home!” Dirk beamed, carrying Rapunzel over the threshold while Bart brought up the rear. “Oh, you’re going to love it here; we have a sofa! And a telly! It goes a bit crackly sometimes, but Ken- that’s the man who lives downstairs- did some jiggery-pokery on the satellite dish and now we get the BBC! The proper one, not that American knock-off, although I’ve heard that that’s producing one or two half-decent things too these days. Let’s see, what else- oh, we’ve got cushions and blankets, soft ones, very comfy! We’ll have to get you a bed sometime, won’t we? It’s alright, you can share mine for now, there’s plenty of room! Better you stay with me than with Todd- just between you and me, I think he’s a little _iffy_ about this situation. But we’ll bring him round!”

He deposited the corgi on the sofa and gave her an enthusiastic ear-scratch before bounding over to the kitchen, grabbing the plastic bag full of supplies from Bart on the way. “Relax, get settled in! You and I are going to have _oodles_ of fun, I can tell! Ooh, you can come on investigations with me! I’ve always wanted a sidekick- I’ve offered the job to Todd, of course, but he seems strangely reluctant to take it. But _you’ll_ love it- mystery, intrigue, adventure! We’ll be the new dynamic duo on the block- Holmes and Watson who, eh?”

“You talk a lot,” Bart rumbled, mooching round the flat and trailing her grubby hands over everything.

Dirk was in too good a mood to care. “Well, only because Rapunzel’s such a fantastic listener!” He rummaged around for a bowl and ended up with one of Todd’s, but he wouldn’t mind. Hopefully. He opened up a packet of Rapunzel’s dry food and poured some out. “Probably a very _hungry_ listener, too! Well, we’ll soon see to that! Oh, Bart, cup of tea?”

She didn’t respond. Odd, usually she at least grunted a little. He turned around to ask again, and didn’t find her quite where he left her.

Instead she was sat cross-legged on the table with her back hunched, and apparently having some kind of staring contest with Rapunzel on the sofa. By rights there really shouldn’t be anything tense about a small scruffy woman and a dog looking deeply into each other’s eyes, and yet that’s _exactly_ what the situation was. Tense like a taut bowstring. They surveyed each other quietly, calculatingly, like competitors in a chess tournament.

Until Rapunzel reached up with a stumpy paw to gently boop Bart on the nose.

Bart dissolved into delighted giggles- or as close as her characteristic raspy cackling could come to giggles, at any rate. “Ha! Again, again!” Rapunzel complied, which had the overjoyed Bart merrily slapping her hands on the table.

Dirk grinned, turning round to put the kettle on and feeling much better about his chances of winning Todd over.

Who _didn’t_ love dogs?

 

* * *

 

**Meanwhile, Somewhere Just South of No-Man’s Land**

 

Despite the initial gauntlet of enemy resistance, Todd broke through to the other side unscathed. But now there was nothing and no one, the forest falling into almost deathly silence as the noise of the other players faded away. It didn’t look like anyone had come this far out all day. But he’d found no sign of Farah (dead or alive) on the battlefield, and she had to be _somewhere._

The silence was worse than the combat sounds, in all honesty. Sure, the yelling and paint-splattering and never-ending volley of gunfire was all kinds of stressful. But without those sounds to worry about, his mind was free to fill in the blanks himself. The amount of times he’d nearly shot at a noise in panic only to turn round and find it was a fucking _squirrel_ was a bit embarrassing. Even the sound of his own feet crunching in the undergrowth was making him anxious. Was this how Farah felt all the time? Jeez, no wonder she liked shooting stuff so much.

_Crunch._

He froze. Turned his head slightly.

No sound.

Just another squirrel, probably. _Jesus Christ, man, get it together._

He took a shaky breath, and then another step.

_Craack._

He froze, gun raised, heart pounding.

It took him a moment to realize he’d panicked over the sound of his own boot snapping a twig. He cursed himself out under his breath. _Fuck,_ he was pathetic. Maybe he should just pack up and go home before he could freak himself out any-

_BRNNNNG-BRRRNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGG!_

Okay that _definitely_ wasn’t a fucking squirrel.

He whirled round, arm outstretched, gun loaded and coming to rest three inches from Lux Dujour’s sneering face.

Which would have been great, if Lux’s gun hadn’t also been three inches from _his_ face.

Lux glanced down at Todd’s gun, at his own, at his pocket and the still ringing phone concealed there, and inclined his head with a smirk. “Whaddya know? Saved by the bell.”

_Shit._

 

* * *

 

**3 ½ Cups Of Tea Later**

 

“Hey, Dirk. I, uh, hope you didn’t need hot water today ‘cause I kinda accidentally-oh.” Ken trailed off from his sheepish confession upon realising Dirk wasn’t alone. “Uh, hi. Didn’t know you were here.”

“Ken!” Bart grinned, cuddling the happily panting corgi a little tighter. “Look at it! Ha! Why are its ears so big and its legs so small?”

“Hi, Ken!” Dirk greeted him, grinning even wider than Bart and Rapunzel. “I got a dog!”

Ken hesitated in the doorway, looking like he was torn between wanting to pet the cute dog and wanting to keep his distance from the scary woman holding her. “Oh! Sweet, man- what’s her name?”

Bart frowned. “Bart. ‘Chu forget my name already?”

“…the _dog’s_ name.”

“Oh.”

“It’s Rapunzel!” Dirk reached up to scratch between her ears as Bart bounced her up and down. “And she’s my new best friend! _Better_ than a best friend, actually, in that I don’t have to pretend to date her to maintain my housing situation. And she’s fluffy!”

“Fluffy!” Bart agreed, cackling as Rapunzel licked her nose.

Whatever qualms Ken had about approaching finally took a backseat to the irresistible pull of Rapunzel’s adorableness, and he walked over to let her sniff his hand. She gave it a lick, triggering another round of gravelly chortles from Bart, and this time Ken joined in. “Heeeey, Rapunzel! Hi, there!” His voice was starting to go rather high-pitched and he was saying hello too many times. Rapunzel seemed to have that effect on people.

“We rescued her- from _certain death!”_ said Dirk, in a stage whisper- he didn't want to upset Rapunzel, after all!

Ken stared at him, wide-eyed. “No way! What happened?”

“This _maniac_ was about to _murder_ her!”

“What?!”

Bart snorted. “He means the shelter lady. Gonna put her down.”

“Don’t sugar-coat it, Bart,” Dirk scoffed. “She was a villain of the highest order!”

“Didn’t you guys go to a no-kill shelter?”

“I had no idea that was a distinction I needed to make- in a decent world, it wouldn’t be,” said Dirk, reaching out to take Rapunzel and cradle her in his arms like a hairy baby. “But I’m glad we went to that house of death- who else would’ve saved Rapunzel, otherwise? It was meant to be! Oh,” he huffed as she started fidgeting. Evidently he hadn’t _quite_ got the hang of holding her yet. “Sorry!”

“You, uh…” Ken watched him with mild concern. “You ever have a dog before?”

“Nope,” he said cheerfully as he put Rapunzel on the floor to wander around. “Always had better luck with cats, personally. But how different can they be?”

“Uhhh…”

“What about you, Ken?” Dirk asked, ambling over to the kitchen to pop the kettle on again. “Have _you_ ever had dogs?”

“Nah, not me.” Ken shrugged and flopped down onto the couch, Rapunzel sniffing around his feet. “Closest I ever got was a Tamagotchi. Kept it alive seven years, though.”

Bart frowned as she completely ignored the couch in favour of sitting on the coffee table again. “How long they s’posed to live?”

“Oh, it’s not, like, a real… wait, seriously? You’ve never heard of…?”

“No. What is it, like… some kinda fish?”

“No, it’s not a _real_ animal, it’s virtual. Y’know, like a game?”

“A _game?!”_ She scowled. “Like ‘I-Spy’? I _hate_ that game.”

Dirk rolled his eyes. “Come on, Bart, we had to pass the time in that car _somehow!”_

Ken looked like he was getting a bit of a headache. It was quite similar to the look Todd got on his face sometimes, actually. Usually when Dirk was talking. Maybe there was a bug going around? “No, no not like I-Spy. Like a computer game. Digital.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed. “I don’t get that stuff. Always breaking and fixing itself for no reason. It’s weird and dumb. Like my car.”

“Cars really aren’t supposed to do that…”

She grunted and shrugged. “Eh. I dunno, I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout cars. So what’s the point of a pet that ain’t a pet?”

“I mean, I got it when I was eight. I don’t know, it was cool at the time.”

“Huh. Weird.” She reached down to rub Rapunzel’s back as she meandered back within reach. “I had my dog when I was eight. I think. I dunno, I was smaller than I am now.”

_What?!_

“You had a _dog?!_ ” Dirk exclaimed, marching back into the living room, hands on hips. “Why is it the first time I’m hearing about it? When? What was it called? Why did I never meet it?” Bloody hell, how many more secret dog backstories was he going to discover today?

“I didn’t know you yet.”

“…Alright, I suppose that’s a decent enough excuse. But you’re telling me _everything!”_ He sat down next to Ken, kettle forgotten- plenty of time for tea when he wasn’t filling in the gaps in the mystery of Bart Curlish! “Go on!”

“Uh… she was cute?” Bart cocked her head thoughtfully. “She was small. And orange. And, and she was always smiling like she just saw some chump fall off of a skateboard.”

Dirk could see Ken out of the corner of his eye, leaning towards Bart a little, his expression softer than it had been a minute ago. And for good reason- it was rare to hear Bart talk so softly and openly about… well, anything!

“I used to throw things and she’d, she’d bring ‘em back, y’know? I mean, she chewed ‘em up a while first, but that was pretty cool too ‘cause if I threw, like, a _doll_ she’d chew it and mess up its face so it was like a _different_ doll. And she always ate the food I didn’t like, even the really gross stuff.”

Her eyes were bright, her smile a shade less predatory than usual, and Dirk found himself being drawn into the story- and also wondering if he’d missed out on a rather vital aspect of childhood. It certainly felt like it. He didn’t have nice comforting pet stories- the longest he’d ever managed to conceal a secret cat before his parents found out and took it to a shelter was a week. Not long enough to really get to know any of the little moggies, in the end.

Ken appeared to be just as taken by the story as he was. He had his chin on his hand and a fond look on his face as he watched Bart gush about her furry friend. An _incredibly_ fond expression, actually. God, was a cute childhood pet anecdote what it took to make people like you? No wonder he’d been having such rotten luck with Todd! Maybe he could make up a secret cat story or two…

“We used to chase cats together- and cars, sometimes. Ha, like our stubby lil’ legs coulda ever caught ‘em!” Bart picked up the wandering Rapunzel and held her to her chest like a teddy bear. Dirk was finding it _very_ difficult to reconcile the resulting cuteness with his own mental image of his intimidating friend. “Sometimes she brought me dead rats and stuff. I used to keep ‘em in a box. She slept on my stomach. When she was real small I could carry her in my pocket, but she still fit in my backpack when she got big. We went everywhere together…”

“She sounds brilliant,” said Dirk with a wistful smile. “Must have been difficult for you, leaving her to come to Blackwing.”

“Oh. No, she got squished by a train long b’fore that. There were guts everywhere. It was pretty cool. And sad, I guess. But, y’know, I put her in the dead box with the rats and stuff for a while, so we could still hang out. The smell did get real bad though, so I set it on fire.

…Hey, what’s up with your faces?”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, guys!” Amanda yelled, barging through the door without knocking. It was cool, Dirk and Todd wouldn’t mind- she had booze! You couldn’t be mad at booze, right? “I know it’s kinda early, but Cross got me a _pret-ty sweet_ deal on these home brews- figured we could get some Ramones on and…”

She trailed off, boots scuffing on the carpet as she scraped to halt.

A few things stood out to her in this weird picture. One, no Todd. Two, Dirk’s weird, greasy friend with the crazy hair sat on the coffee table with a dog in her arms. Three, Dirk and Ken, on the couch with matching expressions of trauma. Not a sound between the three of them besides the shrill whistle of the electric kettle going completely ignored in the background.

There was some _weird_ fucking energy going on in this room right now.

“…Y’know what?” she said, slowly backing away. “I’ll come back later.”

 

* * *

 

**Meanwhile, At The Stand-Off**

 

“Now, Todd,” Lux simpered, voice unashamedly oily. “Let’s think about this, huh? Firing these things from point blank range- pretty _dangerous._ Wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt, right?”

Todd bristled, finger tightening infinitesimally on the trigger. “Yeah, like you care, you were just about to shoot me.”

“Yeah, in the _back of the head,”_ said Lux, as if that somehow made it any less shitty. “In the face? ‘Nother story. Come on, man, it doesn’t have to _be_ like this.”

Wow. Fucking wow. “Are you- are you fucking-? You slimey bastard. You’ll say anything to get yourself on the winning side, won’t you?”

Lux shrugged. “I call ‘em like I see ‘em, man. You’ll never get ahead in life if you don’t learn to think a little more, uh… _tactically._ But, hey, I guess thinking for yourself was never really your style, huh?”

Todd really wished he could get a hold over his shaking hand. But it was part rage, part shame and he couldn’t do fuck all about it. He couldn’t even think of a fucking comeback.

“Hey, what’s say we do this thing right?” said Lux, smirking. “Twenty paces. One shot. Let’s bury this little vendetta once and for all, huh?”

Todd clenched his jaw. He didn’t like it. Last thing he wanted was to turn his back and give Lux the perfect opening to stab him in it. But it was either that or stand here at an impasse until someone called in the game, and then what would be resolved?

What would Farah do?

“…Fine. You’re on.”

Lux smiled wolfishly, and they lowered their guns in unison. “That’s the spirit. And hey- may the best man win, right?”

Todd narrowed his eyes. “Right.”

It went against every single one of Todd’s survival instincts to turn his back, even when he waited to be damn sure Lux was doing the same. But he was trying to be the _honest_ one here (yeah. Crazy), so he did it and told those instincts to suck it up. Listening intently to the mirroring crunch of Lux’s boots in the undergrowth, he took his first blind step in the opposite direction.

_One._

His heart was in his throat, pounding like a jackhammer.

_Two._

His finger itched on the trigger.

_Three._

Jaw set, brows furrowed. He wouldn’t break.

_Four._

He wouldn’t-

_Cra-aack!_

He started. But the noise wasn’t coming from Lux, but from somewhere further out in the woods.

The crack that followed, however…

He couldn’t help it. He turned around.

_Fwapp!_

The paint spattered hard against his arm, the impact catching him by surprise and knocking the gun clean from his hand. He gaped as he watched it fall, about three feet away. It was so close, which was just the icing on the fucking cake because he knew if he took so much as a step towards it…

He looked up, and there was Lux, grinning like a crocodile, gun raised and trained right on Todd’s head.

“Thanks for the song, Brotzman,” he sneered, flicking his hair. “Chicks dig it. If only you could talk to ‘em as well as you write about ‘em, huh?”

 _Shit._ Todd closed his eyes, held his breath, and waited for the inevitable-

_Fwapp!_

And there it was.

But…. Hang on. He didn’t feel anything.

Why didn’t he feel anything?

He opened his eyes, and his blood ran cold.

Farah turned around, paint sprayed all up her neck from the crimson mass on her chest.

“The gun,” she breathed, swaying on her feet.

 _Fuck._ Todd dove for his gun while Lux was distracted, listening with dread to the sound of Farah’s body hitting the deck.

He snatched up the gun- and one of Farah’s for good measure- and aimed both squarely at Lux’s smug fucking head with the fire of a thousand angry punk rockers burning behind his eyes.

“Hey, Lux,” he snarled.

Lux gaped at him, for once at a loss for words.

Todd smirked. “I wrote that song about a guy.”

_Fw-wapp!_

Okay. So maybe aiming both barrels at the crotch was a step too far.

But he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t worth it to hear Lux’s agonised (and embarrassingly high-pitched) shriek as he went down.

He only got to savour his victory a few seconds before Farah’s coughing dragged him back to reality.

“Farah!” he cried, throwing the guns aside and dropping to his knees next to her. He hoisted her head into his lap, patting ineffectively at the horrible pool of red as it spilled down her. It was everywhere, cloying and angry, spattering her neck and shoulders, misting her goggles, trickling from the corner of her mouth and oh, _God,_ she’d been hit right in the chest, there was nothing he could-! “Farah, Farah hang in there, ‘kay! We’re gonna get you through this, we’re gonna-!”

“Did-“ she forced out on a rattling breath, eyelids drooping. “Lux, did you-?”

“I got him, he’s down,” Todd assured her, pressing his hand to the slick mass above her breastbone, staining his skin crimson. There was too much. The damage was done. “Farah- Farah you’ve gotta stay with me. We’ll get you some help, we’ll-!”

“Todd,” she rasped, hand coming up to shakily cover his. “Todd, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“No.” His voice was cracking now and he couldn’t fucking care less. “No, it’s _not_ okay, it’s not _fucking okay._ Christ, why’d you have to go and- why couldn’t you just let him-?”

She snorted, triggering another painful-sounding coughing fit. “Yeah. Guess I’m j-just a, a _stupid_ freaking _moron_ sometimes, I-“

“No, no, you’re-“ his voice broke around a sob- “you’re not. You’re not, you’re- you’re the bravest person I’ve ever… I don’t, I don’t even _deserve_ you as a friend, I…”

“Shh,” she whispered, squeezing his hand weakly. “Don’t… don’t talk like that. It-“ she smiled softly up at him, eyes drifting closed. “It was… my honour… to…”

“Farah?”

No response. Her grip on his hand went slack.

“No,” he sobbed, shaking his head. “No, no, Farah, you can’t…”

But she could, and she did.

Nothing.

She was gone.

He clenched his fist beneath her limp, gore-stained hand, screwed his eyes shut, and tilted his head back as he screamed his anguish to the uncaring sky.

_“Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”_

 

* * *

 

“…Okay, maybe you’ve got a point about the, uh, ‘taking stuff too seriously’ thing,” said Farah, rubbing at the dried red paint on her neck. “That got… kinda intense.”

“Totally forgot we were playing a game,” Todd agreed, dumping their paint-drenched jumpsuits in the nearest laundry bin.

“I, um… I had fun, though.”

“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

“We should do it again sometime.”

“Ask me again in six months,” said Todd, pausing to let the stretcher roll by.

The stretcher with the moaning and still very much incapacitated Lux DuJour writhing about on top of it.

“Oh, yeah,” Farah laughed, with a good-natured punch to his shoulder. “Can’t believe it’s not _me_ being banned for once.”

He met Lux’s venomous glare with a goofy smile that he couldn’t tamp down even if he tried. “Worth it.”

 

* * *

 

**45 ¼ Minutes Later**

 

Dirk didn’t bother looking up from Rapunzel when he heard the key turn in the lock. It would have been an awkward crane of his neck anyway, given that he was currently lying flat on the floor to be level with her as she dozed on the carpet. He’d been lying on the floor an awful lot today, come to think of it.

“Huh, weird,” came Todd’s voice from the doorway. “Déjà vu. It’s like you never got up.”

What was that saying about great minds? “Not true! My face isn’t in the carpet anymore!” he turned his head a notch and grinned. “I need it to look at Rapunzel!”

Todd didn’t reply immediately, but Dirk heard his cautious footsteps approaching until he came to a stop nearby. “So… this is it?”

“This is it,” Dirk confirmed, leaning up on his elbows for a better look at Todd’s wary face. “See? Nothing to worry about!”

“Why ‘Rapunzel’?”

“It was the name she had already. Why? Oh, bloody hell, you don’t have negative associations with a _Rapunzel_ too, do you? What are the chances of _that!_ We can change it, if you want? I’m sure she could learn a new one if need be.”

“No, no, I guess it’s just… not what I expected?” He frowned, a vaguely mystified look washing over him. “Uh, to be honest I don’t know _what_ I expected.”

Dirk flopped back to his chest, scratching Rapunzel soothingly behind the ears as she was now awake and watching Todd almost as guardedly as he was watching her. “How was paintball?”

“Good. Yeah, it was… it was good.” Todd stepped over Dirk and sank down onto the sofa, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “ _Really_ good, actually. Ran into Lux.”

“Isn’t that the-?”

“Pretentious sleaze ball who stole my band? Yeah.”

“ _And?_ What happened?”

“Shot him in the nuts.”

“Todd!” Dirk rolled onto his back to grin up at him from the floor. “I’m proud of you!”

“For shooting a man in the nuts?”

“Well, he wasn’t a very _nice_ man.”

“ _Isn’t,_ he’s not _dead.”_ Todd sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “But _I_ might be when he recovers enough to come kick my teeth in.”

“Pfft, he’s not _that_ tough,” said Dirk with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Anyway, he can’t take on the both of us!”

Todd stared at him, incredulous. “You seriously think _you_ would be any good in a fight?”

“Well, I suppose past experience isn’t exactly on my side,” Dirk acknowledged, sitting up. He made a satisfied hum upon noticing that Todd’s legs were stretched over him at chest height and used them as a handy platform to lean his arms on. “But I reckon I could hold my own!”

“Thanks, but I think _Amanda’s_ more threatening than you.”

“Oh, no, she _definitely_ is.”

Todd snorted and tipped his head back against the couch cushions. Apparently he didn’t have the energy to dislodge Dirk right away. “Did you get a ride with Bart?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Yes- she only just left, actually.” Dirk pulled a face, resting his chin on his folded arms. He still hadn’t quite recovered from the nasty shock of that story. “Ken was here too. We talked about pets.”

Todd blinked. “Huh. Bart… doesn’t seem like the type.”

“She had a dog. It died gruesomely.”

“That… makes a surprising amount of sense.”

“And Ken had something called a Tammy-got-cheese, which sounds made-up to me, but each to their own, I suppose.”

“A Tammy-? Ugh, whatever. Hang on, they only _just_ left? What have you guys been doing all day?”

“Fussing over Rapunzel, of course!” said Dirk with a soppy grin. “Bart’s quite taken with her, I think. So’s Ken- although it’s the _strangest_ thing, I almost got the feeling that he was more interested in looking at _Bart_ than Rapunzel.”

“…In, like, an ‘I don’t wanna take my eyes off of you in case you break my neck’ way?”

“No…”

“Jesus. Okay, not even gonna think too hard about that right now.” Todd leaned over Dirk to scoop up his various cigarette components from the table, and quickly got to work. “Oh, uh- you get a call back about that interview yet?”

“No. And I’m not expecting to.”

“It can’t have been that bad, right?”

There was a moment of silence, punctuated only by the quiet shuffle of Todd's fingers rolling the paper as Dirk thought  _very carefully_ about how he wanted to answer that.

_“…Well.”_

_“Dirk,”_ said Todd firmly, deftly sealing the roll-up. After a moment’s consideration he held it out to Dirk. “Seriously- _what happened?”_

Dirk sighed, and accepted it. “I… was _slightly_ nervous,” he began, reaching for the lighter as Todd got to rolling his own. “I’ve never exactly _had_ a job interview before, you see. Work, money, those are things I just tend to stumble into by accident- and not that often, either. I needed to relax, and you were still asleep, and then I noticed you left some of your puff on the coffee table so I may have had a little…” he shrugged and took a drag of his cigarette. “Well. You know.”

“Thought the bag felt kinda light,” Todd muttered, shaking his head. “So, what, you were high?”

“Yes. And not in the nice way.” He leaned into Todd a little, eyes wide and voice lowered. “Did you know that marijuana can make you _paranoid_ instead of relaxed?!”

“…I mean, that’s pretty common knowledge, honestly.”

“Well, _I_ didn’t,” said Dirk, tapping his fingers restlessly on Todd’s knee. “It was an… _unpleasant_ morning, to say the least.”

“What happened?”

“Well, for a start I came to the sudden and terrifying realisation that I was interviewing for a job at a _women’s_ magazine and hadn’t done any research! I’ve never been a woman as far as I’m aware, you see, so I had absolutely _no_ prior experience to draw from. So of course I rushed to the bloody newsagents and scoured every vaguely feminine-looking magazine I could find for inspiration- although I took an accidental detour into the wrong section and wasted time on a few magazines that really weren’t all that relevant at all. Although _Huge Fat Cocks Monthly_ was _very_ interesting."

Todd, having only just taken his first drag, promptly choked on his smoke.

“So then I made my way to the office, but I had to take the long way round- this bloody squirrel was stalking me. Watching me with its beady little eyes- I must have seen that same squirrel six or seven times!”

“And you don’t think it may have been six or seven _different_ squirrels?”

Dirk rolled his eyes. “Well, yes, it occurs to me _now._ But I was off my bloody tits on your evil grass, and therefore quite ready to believe that I’d incurred the wrath of one particularly persistent squirrel assassin somehow. So I ended up taking a fairly circuitous route to the office and being _considerably_ late, but they said I could still interview. So I went in, and I sat down, and there were three women and they all talked very fast and very dynamically and with a lot of emphasis on certain words and it was _very_ scary. I missed a lot of those words, truth be told, but I heard ‘big’, ‘hard’ and ‘now’ and that made me even _more_ anxious because suddenly I was regretting not giving _Huge Fat Cocks_ more of a chance.”

Todd snorted. He was having a bit too much fun with this story, it seemed. No respect for legitimate trauma.

“And then I lost track of what they were saying a bit, and then they asked me a question that I didn’t understand so I just repeated the last thing they said. And then that was it, and the interview was over and I was leaving and I should have just _left_ but I wanted to make a good exit impression and so I…” He groaned, planting his face in his arms. “So I said… ‘girl power’.”

There was a long, _long_ pause before Todd spoke. “Did… did you do this?”

Dirk looked up. Todd was holding two fingers of his free hand up in a peace sign. He nodded sadly. “Yes. Yes, I did do that.”

Todd winced. “Shit.”

“Yes, it… it was a little bit not good.”

“Sorry, man.”

Dirk shrugged, taking another drag and coughing on the smoke a little. He handed the rest of the cigarette up to Todd- he found he could never manage an entire one by himself. “It’s alright. It’s not as if I really _wanted_ that job anyway. Still, it is a tad disappointing. To have cocked-up my first proper job interview so thoroughly, that is.”

“There’ll be others,” said Todd, popping the ciggy in his mouth beside his own. “At least you tried, right? And hey, you got a pretty funny story out of it.”

It wasn’t funny _at all,_ but Todd had a point about the other thing. “I _did_ try, didn’t I?” Dirk grinned, patting Todd’s knees twice and hoisting himself up off the floor. “I got off my arse!”

“You mean your front?” Todd smirked, reaching over for his guitar.

“I got myself out there! All on my own! No universal intervention required!” Dirk scooped up Rapunzel, who was just dozy enough to not mind much at all. “And who needs a silly editorial job, anyway? I’ve got a new investigative assistant, now!

“Yeah,” Todd muttered, eyeing her suspiciously. “Great.”

“Oh, _relax,_ Todd,” said Dirk with an exaggerated eye-roll. “You’ll be fine once you get to know her- I think you two’ll get along like a house on fire!”

“Never really got that expression.” Todd twiddled with the tuney things. “If I was the house, I think I’d have a bone to pick with the fire.”

“Hmm, semantics,” said Dirk with a shrug, cradling the sleepy dog more comfortably in his arms. “I think _someone_ needs a nap!”

“You get her a bed yet?”

“Oh, I was talking about me.” Dirk yawned, stepping around the sofa. “She can sleep on my bed for now- I’ll go shopping tomorrow! Think I’ll just-“ another yawn- “shut my eyes for a bit. What’re you going to do now?”

“I, uh, thought I might do some songwriting,” said Todd, tentative smile blossoming on his face. “I, uh… I actually feel pretty good about it today.”

Dirk could feel a smile of his own forming. “Todd?”

Todd, curiosity piqued, turned his head to look at him.

“…I really _am_ proud of you.”

Todd turned away again, but it was too late to hide the blush staining his cheeks. “Thanks Dirk.”

It was possibly the softest he’d ever heard Todd speak his name. It was… nice.

He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the funny, flip-floppy sensation in his stomach, though.

Maybe there  _was_ a bug going around...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Bart's dog](http://d21vu35cjx7sd4.cloudfront.net/dims3/MMAH/thumbnail/645x380/quality/90/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fs3.amazonaws.com%2Fassets.prod.vetstreet.com%2F29%2Fac3ff0a7f711e0a0d50050568d634f%2Ffile%2FPomeranian-3-645mk062811.jpg) in case you were wondering!


	7. Resentments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Todd's self-pity has unfortunate consequences.
> 
> WARNINGS: swearing, ableist language (canon-typical), smoking, quarter-life crisis angst, fall outs, guns/weapons, dognapping. REFERENCES TO: anxiety attacks.

**May**

 

“He just- he never shuts up about it, y’know?” Todd griped. “That stupid dog, it’s- it’s all he talks about!”

A couple walking by gave him a weird look. Whatever. Let them stare at the random guy talking to himself on a park bench, he didn’t care. He just needed to get this out. “I mean… I _get_ it, I guess. I know he’s been having a pretty hard time lately. He misses England, and there was that disaster with the job interview. But it’s like, what, Rapunzel comes on the scene and he just- _doesn’t care_ about any of that? That’s weird, right? No one’s _that_ obsessed with their pets! It’s- _ugh.”_

Slumping and groaning was the only sentence finisher he could think of. He had no idea where he was going with his rant, like, at all. He just needed to complain a while. To someone who understood him.

Behind him a hydrangea bush uprooted itself, took a few shambling steps closer, and plopped back down again with a cacophonous rattle of branches. A hand emerged from within, pushing the leaves aside and revealing Farah’s frustrated face.

“Todd,” she said firmly. “I _know_ how you feel about dogs, okay? But I also know how you feel about Dirk-“ Todd opened his mouth to protest- “ _you know what I mean._ I know you complain about him all the time, but… he’s your _friend,_ y’know? He’s your _best_ friend. You can at least, like, _try_ to put your weird pet hang-ups aside for that, right?”

“My _best-?!_ No. No, that’s… that’s not even on the table, okay? We’re roommates and, yeah, okay, we get along okay, I guess he’s my _friend_ , but he isn’t-! I mean, _you’re_ my best friend!... Right?”

“Well, I mean, I’m your _oldest_ friend,” she said, pushing more branches aside and leaning over to fold her arms on the back of the bench. “And you’re mine. Which… kinda says something about us, right? I mean, we’ve only known each other five years. We must scare people off easy.”

“Yeah,” said Todd, wincing. “Guess our crazies kinda balance each other out, huh?”

“Yeah, they do, and I appreciate that- but I’m not your best friend. Dirk is. And I get it, you don’t get him to yourself as much now he’s got a dog, and that sucks but, y’know. He’s got his own life and so do you, so you should probably just let him have this, don’t you think?”

“Okay, shut the hell up, that’s not what I was saying _at all._ And, c’mon, my _best friend?_ That’s stupid, Dirk and I barely even-!”

“I’ve _never_ seen you spend this much time with someone,” she said, almost laughing. “I mean, you’ve known him _how_ long? Four months? And it’s like you’ve been together for y-years! I never see you guys apart!”

“We _live_ together, it’s kinda hard to avoid-!”

“You’ve lived with _three other people_ since I met you, and you’ve spent more time with Dirk already than you did with the three of them _combined.”_

“What? Come on, I used to hang out with the band all the-“

“Please- the _second_ you guys were done with band practice you ditched them to hang out with me. Or hide in your room, or go out to the bar or, y’know, just… _whatever_ it took to _avoid_ them.”

“No, I… ugh, _fine,_ yes, I hang out with Dirk more than the band. But they were the _band!_ It was my job they were, like, _colleagues.”_

“As opposed to Dirk, who’s your…?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Ah-ah, no, you are _not_ tricking me that easy. Dirk is… yeah, okay, he’s my friend. My _ordinary_ friend. He’s not my ‘best’ anything. I’m happy to get a break from the guy, honestly.”

His phone buzzed, and he didn’t get a chance to check it before Farah snatched it from his hand with lightning-fast reflexes. “No, don’t!”

But it was too late. The message- from Dirk, obviously- was open, and so was the rest of their conversation. Farah’s eyes widened as she skimmed it.

 

_How’s work today??? =]_

 

 

_on lunch now_

_in park /w farah_

_hide and seek_

 

 

 _Sounds fun!!! I_ <3 <3 <3 _hide and seek!!!_ ^_^

 

 

_wanna come?_

 

 

('o') _YES?????!! JUST FINISHING MY TEA B RIGHT THERE_ ^▽^ _!!!_

 

 

_don’t bring the dog_

 

 

 _I’M BRINGING THE DOG C U SOON_ ^3^ <3 <3 <3 <3

 

He could see Farah suppressing her laughter as she slowly handed back the phone. “Break-time’s over, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“Also, this- this isn’t _hide and seek._ This is i-important _tactical_ _manoeuvres_ training and-“

“Just go hide already.”

“Alright, just… just think about what I said, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“…And count to a hundred?”

He heaved a sigh and covered his eyes with his hands, muttering the numbers under his breath and pretending he couldn’t hear Farah picking up the entire shrub and rustling away with it.

She was right, he knew she was. Well, not about the _best friend_ thing, obviously, but… he _did_ have a good relationship with Dirk right now. They were kinda like him and Farah- their crazies balanced each other out. Dirk kept Todd on his toes and Todd… kept Dirk from being arrested, probably. And they had fun, too, crazily enough. But Farah was right- sometimes with friendship or whatever you called it, you had to compromise, you had to… make an _effort_ to maintain it.

But what the hell would Todd know about effort?

“Todd!” a familiar cheerful voice yelled. He could practically hear the matching wave.

Out of respect for Farah’s hiding attempts, he didn’t open his eyes. “Hi, Dirk.”

He kinda regretted keeping them shut when he felt something small and slobbery lick the back of his hand. “And Rapunzel, I guess,” he added with a grimace.

“Oh, no, that was me.”

_“What?!”_

“Just kidding!”

Todd dropped his hands to glare at him (Farah would understand). He looked down irritably at Dirk’s hands and the excitable dog dangling from them, and groaned. “ _Jesus_ Chri- Dirk, have you been buying her stuff _again?”_

“…No?”

Todd eyed the obnoxious pink rhinestone-encrusted collar around the dog’s neck that _definitely_ wasn’t there this morning. “Dirk, you know you’re _broke,_ right? Don’t you have more important stuff to be spending your _incredibly limited_ cash on? Like, y’know… paying the rent? Buying food? _Human_ things?”

“Says the man who smokes eight cigarettes a day.”

“I’ve been tryna cut back, actually.”

“ _Sure_ you have,” said Dirk, with a knowing smile. “Honestly, Todd, you ought to take better care of your lungs- how are you _ever_ going to sing your way to the top of the charts with a smoker’s cough?”

“I was never really much of a singer.”

“Well, not with _that_ attitude. You’ll have to learn to sing, Todd- you’re a solo act now! Unless, of course-?”

“No, you’re not in my band.”

“Worth a try. So, where’s Farah?”

“I don’t know. But, y’know, that’s kinda the point of the game- _shit,_ I lost count, uh… what number was I on when you came over?”

Dirk frowned, sitting down with Rapunzel cuddled in his arms like an infant. “Ah, um, eleven…ty…twelve?”

Todd rolled his eyes, weighed up how long they’d been talking with where he figured he might have been in the countdown, and took a guess. “Fifty. Fifty one. Fifty two-“

“Seventy!”

“Fifty three. Fifty four-“

“Twenty nine! Seven! Eighteen!”

“Oh, my God- _stop!”_ Todd laughed, kicking the smartass in the shin.

Dirk just grinned. “A-ha! Made you smile!” He thrust the happily panting Rapunzel into Todd’s arms and sprang to his feet. “Is it too late to hide? I’m gonna hide! _Don’t look!”_

And with that he was off and running like an ungainly baby giraffe, ‘disappearing’ into an incredibly obvious hiding place behind the fountain.

Todd sighed, and peered warily at the dog in his arms. Well, it could be worse. She could be the same colour as that damn dog costume.

She wasn’t far off Sneakers, though…

He put her down in a hurry, banishing the comparison from his mind as he reluctantly took her leash in hand. “Seventy three,” he muttered, carefully avoiding looking at her. “Seventy four…”

Yeah, this… this was gonna be effort, alright.

 

* * *

 

**Seven (Very Short) Rounds of Hide-and-Seek Later**

 

“Well, I _would_ have won. If _Todd_ hadn’t cheated and looked before he was finished counting!” said Dirk haughtily, snuggling Rapunzel to his chest.

“Dirk, you never even gave me a chance to close my eyes,” Todd grumbled in response. “And, y’know, hiding works better if you don’t shout out what you’re doing at anyone who passes by.”

“Well how else would they know not to tell anyone?”

“Remind me never to take you paintballing,” said Farah, looking awfully amused by his and Todd’s friendly banter. “And, I mean, you didn’t actually lose- there was nothing to _win,_ it wasn’t a _game,_ it was-!”

“An exercise in covert tactical manoeuvres,” said Dirk and Todd in dry unison. He always loved when that happened; Todd, however, tended to go red-faced and quiet with embarrassment. “Well, I’ll show you next time!” Dirk continued, bouncing Rapunzel in his arms. “You’ll see! I’ll hide so well you’ll _never_ find me!”

“God, I hope so.”

“Charming, Todd. You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to be a _lit-tle bit_ nicer to me! You’ll miss me when I’m- _oof!”_

The man Dirk had just smacked headlong into wrinkled his very attractive nose in confused annoyance. “Hey, uh, watch where you’re going!”

Dirk looked the bloke up and down. He was… well, slightly dreamy. Tall, well-muscled, an all-round good face. He wasn’t quite Dirk’s type but he could see the appeal. Although the matching hat and trench coat made him look a bit like a private detective. Hopefully he _wasn’t,_ otherwise he’d already blown his cover merely by virtue of his incredibly stereotypical outfit choice. He also appeared to be shiftily lurking on the corner of their street, hence the unfortunate collision.

“Sorry!” said Dirk, squeezing Rapunzel apologetically- he’d more or less just squished her between himself and this weird and suspicious looking man, after all. “I wasn’t paying attention! I go up and down this street _a lot,_ you see, and I’ve _never_ seen a weird and suspicious-looking man here before.”

 _“Dirk!”_ Todd snapped.

The man, too, looked surprised and offended. And a little confused, but that just seemed to be a permanent fixture on his face. “I’m not weird and suspicious,” he said, as a weird and suspicious individual would.

But Farah elbowed him (with her _incredibly_ sharp elbows), so Dirk backtracked. “Did I say weird and suspicious? I meant… warm, and… salubrious. Obviously.” Alright, so that probably wasn’t a correct use of that word. But it was a good attempt, no matter what Todd’s eyebrows said. “Yes. Very salubrious.”

Todd scowled and grabbed Dirk’s sleeve, towing him past the peculiar street man while Farah stuttered out a few more apologies. “Jesus, I can’t take you anywhere.”

Dirk pouted, but let himself be led along. “I was only being friendly!”

Honestly, some people took offence at the strangest things!

 

* * *

 

Todd was so eager to make a quick getaway from the awkward situation that he and Dirk didn’t give Mr. Warm and Salubrious a second glance.

If they did, they might’ve noticed the look of annoyance the guy sent after them.

Might have even noticed the way he looked at the corgi in Dirk’s arms and narrowed his eyes like he’d made some kind of tenuous connection that he barely understood.

They _definitely_ would have noticed the way he pulled out his cell phone, held it to his ear and started talking into it in tones that were hushed and… well, frankly, kinda weird and suspicious.

But they didn’t hang round and they didn’t look back, and the only person who noticed any of those things was Farah. And she only entertained them a moment before shoving them roughly to the back of her mind and following the others.

She _really_ needed to get her paranoia under control…

 

* * *

 

 **Twelve Hours, Half a Work Day and Nearly Two (Fucking** **_Long_** **) Movies Later**

 

Todd didn’t know what possessed him to agree when Ken suggested a movie night. Especially when the movies were the Lord of the Rings extended editions and tomorrow was a work day. _Especially_ when Ken’s TV was broken (or at least, in the midst of some elaborate upgrade) so they had to have it in his own apartment- which, by extension, meant having it with Dirk and Rapunzel.

All he knew now was he’d made a grave mistake.

“It’s uncanny!” Dirk insisted, gesturing frantically between Todd’s face and the TV. “How can you _not_ see it?!”

After seven-plus hours of the same thing, Todd was pretty much ready to kill everyone in the room and then himself. “Oh my God, Dirk, _drop it, okay?!”_

Dirk looked to Ken imploringly. “Ken, come on, _you_ see it, don’t you?”

Ken shuffled about awkwardly in the armchair. “Sorry, man…”

“Dirk,” said Todd through gritted teeth. “I do _not_ look like _fucking Frodo,_ okay? _Drop. It.”_

Looked like Dirk was frustrated to the point of homicide, too. “I can’t believe none of you see it- am I going _insane?!”_

“’Going’?” Todd muttered.

“Maybe you’ve just been looking at his face too long,” Ken suggested, waving his hand at the screen. “I mean, these movies are _long.”_

“Yes… yes, maybe we ought to take a breather. Regroup, re-evaluate,” said Dirk, getting up and pausing the DVD despite Todd and Ken’s protests. “Who wants a cuppa? I’m gasping. Todd, put the kettle on.”

“Ugh. Fine. Coffee break,” Todd muttered, slouching back and rooting round in his pocket for his tobacco. “But you can make it- I made the popcorn.” He scowled and shuffled along the couch when Rapunzel waddled to his side and nudged his hand with her snout.

“Bit stuffy in here- Ken, crack a window, will you?” Dirk called on his way to the kitchen.

“Okay,” Ken called back, standing and stretching the cricks out of his back.

Rapunzel nudged Todd’s hand again, scattering a few flakes of tobacco on his jeans. “Ugh, Dirk, your dog wants something.”

“Oh, she probably needs a walk,” said Dirk brightly, snagging her leash from the counter and lobbing it at Todd. “Nip out with her, will you? A couple of circuits round the block ought to do this time of night.”

“What the- no, I’m not doing it, _you_ do it!”

“I’m making the tea!”

“Well, _I_ made the popcorn! Ken, you take her.”

“I’m opening the windows.”

“Yeah, Todd, he’s opening the windows,” said Dirk brightly, filling the kettle. “It’s your turn!”

Todd glowered, but he didn’t have the energy to fight this battle tonight. He sighed, hurriedly finishing his roll-up and shoving it in his pocket. “I hate you both,” he grumbled as he clipped the leash in place and Rapunzel sloppily licked his hand.

“Thanks, Todd!” Dirk beamed, unbothered by Todd’s obvious lack of enthusiasm. “Don’t worry, coffee’ll be ready and waiting when you come back- best coffee in Seattle, guaranteed!”

It was gonna be crappy instant with too much water and they both knew it. “Great.”

Dirk rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t fuss. It’ll be good for you- give you two a chance to get to know each other!”

Todd brushed past without returning Dirk’s wave. “Great. Just what I’ve always wanted…”

 

* * *

 

**One and a Half Block Circuits Later**

 

“What did I tell him? First time he told me about this, what did I fucking tell him?” Todd grumbled as the deceptively strong dog tugged him along by its leash. “’Zero responsibility’, that’s what I said. And look where I am now. Walking his fucking dog at one a.m. Figures.”

Rapunzel yapped, bounding over towards a nearby copse of trees. Todd rolled his eyes and clicked on the extension on her leash. No way he was gonna let her drag him through the bushes on top of everything else.

“It’s not _you,_ exactly,” he said begrudgingly, leaning against a lamppost. “You seem like a good dog, or… well, you seem like… _a dog._ Okay? It’s just… Christ, first we move in together, then we get a freaking _dog_ together? This whole relationship’s supposed to be a charade and yet here we are, we’re… we’re fucking _domestic._ You were supposed to be Dirk’s dog and here I am walking you in the middle of the night, just ‘cause he asked me to. Jeez, what’s _wrong_ with me? Why do I just… just _do_ stuff for him? Maybe he’s right, y’know, maybe I _am_ his fucking assistant.”

He watched Rapunzel sniff around the base of the nearest tree before disappearing further into the undergrowth. He tipped his head back against the lamppost with a sigh. At least she was doing her own thing now- he wasn’t sure he could deal with a clingy corgi on top of his own quarter-life crisis.

“Is this what my life is now? No band, no music. Going to my shitty job and my shitty boss for my shitty pay check, doing weird favours for my wackjob roommate in-between? Great. Just what mom and dad always wanted, huh? Shit, I still haven’t even told them… ugh.”

He closed his eyes a second and dug his cigarette out of his pocket- at least he’d had a chance to roll one before he got roped into this midnight stroll. He clamped it between his lips and hunted round for his lighter. He really _was_ trying to cut back, he wasn’t lying about that at least. But trying and doing were two very different things. He’d tried talk Dirk out of getting this dog, and yet here he was walking it. He’d tried to finish that stupid song he was working on, but the right words just weren’t there. He’d tried to make things work with the band, but...

He’d taken a good few drags before he realised Rapunzel had been in the bushes quite a while. “Rapunzel?” he called out, tugging the leash lightly. It didn’t budge. He frowned, following it. If she was taking a piss in there she was taking a fucking long time about it. “Rapunzel? C’mon, time to go.” He tugged the leash again. Still no movement. What the-?

“Hey,” he said, marching up to the bushes and kneeling down beside them. “Hey, c’mon, this isn’t funny, what are you-?”

He pushed some branches aside, and paled.

There was the other end of the leash. Attached to her ridiculous collar, just where it should be.

Rapunzel, however, was no longer wearing it.

He reached out and unhooked the thing from the branch it was snagged on, blood running cold. “Rapunzel?” he called, voice rising in panic as he stood bolt upright. “Rapunzel! Here, girl! _Rapunzel!”_

But there was no response. No bark, not even a rustle in the undergrowth. Just the snap of the empty leash as it fully retracted, and the whistle of the wind in the eaves.

_SHIT._

 

* * *

 

**1 ¼ Hours of Desperate and Ineffective Searching Later**

 

“Todd!” Dirk exclaimed, dashing over to greet him at the door. “What on earth took you so long? I’m sure you’re eager to have some one-on-one bonding time with Rapunzel but it’s _two in the morning,_ I was about ready to come looking for you myself! We’ll never finish these bloody films if we don’t get a move on- and before you ask yes, I _did_ make you coffee but then you went AWOL. You’re still welcome to it, of course, but I imagine it’s stone cold by…”

He trailed off, and Todd’s heart sank. He’d finally realised what was missing from the picture. “Todd, where’s Rapunzel?”

“She…” Todd shook his head, holding up the leash. “I don’t… she just _disappeared,_ the buckle must’ve slipped or something, she’s… she’s gone.”

“Gone? W-what do you mean _gone,_ just… _gone?”_

“I mean, she’s not here. She hasn’t stopped existing.” His brow wrinkled. “At least, I-I don’t think she has. I dunno what happened, one minute she was there and then she went into the bushes and…”

He looked up at Dirk, and immediately felt three hundred percent guiltier than he already did. Dirk looked… Dirk looked fucking _heartbroken._ He could see the tears forming in his eyes already. Shit. Shit shit _shit._

“Dirk, God, I’m sorry, I-“

“Did you let her go?”

He said it so quietly, and still it hit like a punch to the gut. “What? No, Jesus, Dirk, why would I-?”

“You never liked her,” said Dirk, rubbing away angry tears. “You- you never wanted a dog in the first place!”

“No!” Todd shook his head, holding his hands out- it was meant to be placating, but it probably just came across guilty and desperate. “No, look, I know I didn’t want a dog but d’you really think I’d stoop to… to _this?_ Dirk, c’mon, you know me better than that!”

Dirk half-gazed, half-glared at him, caught perfectly on the border between furious and distraught, and Todd was acutely aware in that moment that there wasn’t a single thing he could say to make this better. “Yes… yes, I thought I did, too.”

And with that devastating blow he snatched Rapunzel’s leash and collar from Todd’s hand and barged past him into the hall, calling her name even before hemade it to the stairwell.

“Dirk!” Todd yelled after him, stomach knotting with anxiety. “Dirk, she’s not out there, she’s- c’mon, it’s pitch black out there! We’ll look for her tomorrow, I promise, just- _dammit!”_

Dirk didn’t even slow down. Within seconds he was out of sight, and soon after Todd could hear the building door slam shut behind him.

Todd groaned, leaning back against the doorframe. He felt his knees begin to give and his body slide down to the floor, but he didn’t care. He was too fucking tired and guilty to care. “Jesus… fuck. Fucking _fuck it.”_

He was all set to sit there in the fucking doorway and wallow all night, staring sadly at Dirk’s forgotten jacket on the armchair, when the sound of a throat clearing reminded him he wasn’t alone.

Ken was sitting on the couch, looking the most uncomfortable he’d ever looked- infamous housewarming party included. “Ken,” Todd huffed, rubbing his forehead with both hands; he could feel a real bitch of a stress headache coming on. “Shit, sorry…”

Ken shrugged awkwardly, not meeting his eyes. “S’okay.”

Todd tilted his head back, bumping it painfully against the wood. “…He’s never gonna forgive me for this, is he? Jesus, he really thinks I would- fuck, he _hates_ me.”

“He doesn’t…” Ken trailed off, not knowing what to say. Todd didn’t blame him. “I mean, uh, I’m sure he… didn’t mean it?”

Todd snorted. “Y’think?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I mean- he’s pretty upset, right? ‘Bout Rapunzel. People say stuff they don’t mean sometimes. Y’know, lash out.”

Well, that was true. Todd glanced up at Ken through his hands gratefully. “Yeah… thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah man, no problem.”

They sat in silence a while, and Todd figured he’d maybe scraped together just enough resolve to lever himself up off the floor when Ken spoke up again.

“So, uh… what _did_ you do with it?”

“Oh, my fu- _I didn’t do anything to it!”_

“…Okay.”

He didn’t add the ‘ _that sounds fake but okay’,_ but Todd could hear it in his voice.

If he had a single shred of energy left to lift his arms, he’d punch something.

 

* * *

 

**Three Days Later**

 

His desire to punch stuff only increased over the following days- and most of the time, the thing he wanted to punch was his own goddamn face.

They’d been looking everywhere. He went back to the last place he saw Rapunzel several times, searched pretty much the entire two kilometres in every possible direction from the spot. Nothing. They searched the parks, the streets, they put up posters and asked just about everyone who would give them the time of day (and a few who wouldn’t- Dirk was fast becoming a local nuisance). Still nothing. It was like she’d disappeared off the face of the earth. Maybe she _had_ stopped existing.

Todd wasn’t sure how much more of it he could take, honestly. Not just the guilt and worry over Rapunzel herself, although that _was_ growing every day. It was more to do with Dirk, and the forlorn disappointment on his face every time they hit a dead end, it was… more difficult to look at than Todd would have ever imagined.

Dirk… wasn’t doing too well. Todd remembered just the other day telling Farah how much happier Dirk seemed with Rapunzel around, and now it was more obvious than ever.

But pre-Rapunzel Dirk had _nothing_ on the sad, anxious shadow he’d become now she was missing. He wasn’t eating- or at least, he wasn’t eating anything _Todd_ gave him. He definitely wasn’t sleeping, Todd could hear him pacing in his room through the wall at night. He’d given up combing his hair, wearing ties- hell, he’d even given up his daily jacket shuffle. He used to stand in front of his closet for a full half hour every morning just choosing which colour to wear, but now he just grabbed the blue one- which he’d been wearing the day she went missing and hadn’t hung up properly since- and called it a day. It was weird, Todd had _never_ seen him stick to a colour this long. He never thought he’d miss that stupid yellow jacket, but…

He heard the door open and close, and turned to find Dirk standing dejectedly in front of it. “Hey. Find anything?” He already knew the answer. Dirk looked just as terrible now as he had when he went out six hours ago.

Dirk shook his head, peeling off his jacket and throwing it on the armchair sloppily. He walked right past Todd to his bedroom without a word.

Another thing Todd never thought he’d miss? The endless talking. Dirk had barely spoken to him in days. Somehow it hurt more than plain yelling ever could. God, he _wished_ Dirk would just yell at him. Then he could get defensive and angry and pretend he wasn’t being torn apart by guilt.

He turned to look at the door when he heard it again. “Farah,” he sighed in relief, sagging against the breakfast bar. “Thank God- _please_ tell me you have good news?”

He figured he’d get one of two responses- an enthusiastic ‘yes’ and a corgi thrust into his arms, or the standard sad head shake.

So he wasn’t exactly ready for her to purse her lips and say: “That kinda depends.”

“On what?”

“I think…” she walked over and leaned on the counter beside him, tapping her fingers anxiously on it. “I think I know where your dog is.”

“W-wait, seriously?” _Holy shit._ “Oh my-thank _fuck,_ where is she?”

“Well… I figured it was _weird,_ her just _disappearing_ like that, and you said you guys couldn’t find anything so I pulled some strings with the city council- or, uh, Patrick did- and got the tapes from a couple of CCTV cameras in the area. And one of them was useless, basically that whole zone was a massive blind spot, but the other…” she pulled her phone out and tapped the screen a few times before handing it to Todd. “Well, see for yourself.”

He took it, peering at the grainy footage. There was Rapunzel, nosing around in the undergrowth. He could just make out his own silhouette somewhere in the background, partially obscured by trees. Rapunzel was just closing her jaws around something small and ragged, probably a dead bird or something. This must have been right before she…

And then it happened.

The man seemed to melt right out of the shadows. His gloved hands gripped Rapunzel under her long belly and hoisted her up- the trusting little idiot didn't even bark. He fiddled with her collar, unbuckling it and hooking it over the small branch where Todd had found it, before disappearing out of shot along with Rapunzel.

"What the _hell?!"_ He looked up at Farah, confused and enraged. "Some guy just-?!"

"It gets weirder," she said, reaching over and rewinding the clip. "Take a closer look at him."

He watched it again, this time focusing on the guy. It was kinda hard to make out his face, the footage was dark and grainy. But he was wearing a trench coat, and a matching hat that was probably supposed to be inconspicuous but kinda had the opposite effect and- "Holy _shit,_ that's the guy! The guy Dirk crashed into!"

"Yep," said Farah grimly as she took her phone back. "He's really not nailing the stealth thing. I've been asking around, it's _not_ the first time he's been seen skulking. _And,_ and I _saw_ him. _Today_."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all, he- he was just _in town,_ and he wasn't wearing the stupid hat but it was _definitely_ him. But Rapunzel wasn't with him, so I followed him and..." She grimaced, and held out her phone again. "And I think I know where she is."

There was a picture on her screen of a building. Squat, red, surrounded by a tall chain-link fence. It wasn't anything special, but it looked kinda familiar. "I've seen this before..."

"Been to the zoo lately?"

Yeah, actually- he went with Dirk and had to keep him from jumping into the penguin enclosure. But she didn’t need to know that, and he _definitely_ didn’t remember this building. "This is at the _zoo?"_

"Yeah. He just, _walked_ right into it, I don't know why but he had a key to the fence. I asked around the staff- this place used to be the animal transfer unit, but it's been c- _c_ _losed_ for years!"

"So how come-?"

"I don't know!" she said, eyes narrowed like that answer offended her. "But w- _whatever_ he's doing in there, my guess is it's _not legal."_

"Jesus- we have to call the cops! If Rapunzel's in there-!"

"No, we- we can't call the cops," said Farah, stopping his hand before it could go for his phone. "If they _are_ doing something illegal in there, they'll be keeping watch. That means getting rid of the evidence the _second_ they hear sirens. We can't risk it."

He groaned, frustrated and defeated. If they couldn't call the cops, _then_ what?

"Todd?"

They both turned round to the voice. Dirk was standing barefoot in the door off the kitchen, watching them both with bewilderment and... just a little bit of hope. "What's going on?"

His hair was tousled, his eyes were red. He'd obviously been crying.

...Ah, _shit._ Todd was gonna have to do something himself, wasn't he?

_Fuck._

...God, he must be _insane_.

"Dirk," he said, before he could lose his nerve. "Call everyone- Amanda, Bart, Ken. Tell them to meet us here tonight, nine o'clock. A-and to wear black. _All_ black. Farah, can you get more pictures of that place?"

She didn't even need to ask what he was planning. "Yeah. Yeah, I can do that."

"Pictures, what-? Todd, what's happening?" Dirk insisted, lost and a little frantic. "What are we doing?"

Todd met his gaze, and set his jaw.

"We're getting our dog back."

 

* * *

 

**The Apartment (AKA Mission Control), 2100hrs**

 

Needless to say, Dirk was _more_ than on board with a spontaneous and daring dog rescue mission. He was surprised that _Todd_ suggested it, though. But, well, it was nice to see the man taking a step out of his comfort zone!

So as soon as he'd been briefed on the situation, he'd sprung into action. He’d dug deep in his wardrobe for the suitable attire, including a distinctly unworn black leather jacket (and the widening of Todd’s eyes on seeing it had be _priceless)._ He called everyone Todd said to call with a basic explanation- _shady man holding Rapunzel in abandoned building for nefarious purposes, please assist_ \- and a time. He had _no_ idea what Todd and Farah were planning, but he was fairly happy to go with the flow. That's what he usually did! And if what they ended up doing was dangerous and a little illegal, well... well, it probably wasn't _as_ illegal as whatever these villainous dog-nappers were up to, so really the two things cancelled out! But they'd need all the help they could get, _that_ was for sure.

Fortunately, they got all of that help and _then_ some.

Ken turned up first, dressed appropriately (although he'd had to turn his shirt inside out to hide the _Magic: The Gathering_ logo), looking nervous but determined.

And then, surprisingly, so did Bart. Dirk hadn't been a hundred percent on her- she was, like himself, a bit more of a 'go with the flow' person. But _he_ at least could appreciate the value of a plan from time to time. Bart, he thought, would have either ignored his call altogether or attempted to just barge straight into that animal transfer unit herself with a grunt and a 'plan-schman, let's do this'. But she showed up, only a few minutes late, dressed all in black just like Dirk asked, and working with Ken's help to get her wild mane of grubby hair stuffed under her weather-beaten beanie.

She gave him a look that said _don't get used to it._ He didn't intend to.

Then Amanda came, which wasn't surprising. She loved Rapunzel and she only lived upstairs, after all. No, the _surprise_ came with the roar of a revving engine, a chorus of whoops and yowls, and four van-dwelling anarchists toppling into their living room.

Well, at least they were already wearing black...

But the first to arrive, of course, was the ever-punctual Farah. And she came not only dressed for the job but also _armed to the bloody teeth._ It seemed highly likely that bumping into her could cause an explosion or at the very least a stab wound or two, so Dirk gave her a wide berth.

She and Todd talked at length, standing in front of the wall where Dirk liked to pin all his pertinent case information that he'd run out of space for in his room. For the last few days it had been a mish-mash of Rapunzel-related information, anything he could find: maps of the area, local animal protection services, migratory habits of corgis (a shockingly uncommon and unhelpful Google search, it seemed). Now Farah's photographs of the animal transfer unit were pinned over the top, along with notes jotted down in her neat, military hand and some tricky-looking blueprints. He didn't know what she and Todd were planning but it looked bloody complicated.

Eventually they reached some kind of accord, and with a shared nod turned to face the gathering.

"Okay, guys, listen up," Todd said, looking between each member of their congregation in turn, lingering just a tad longer on Dirk. "You all know why we're here, so I'm not gonna go over that again. If we gonna do this we have to do it _fast-_ we could already be too late. So I'm gonna go through the plan, then you can ask questions if you got 'em, and then we've just gotta go for it. Okay?"

There were nods and mumbles of assent around the room. Even the Rowdies piped down enough to pay attention. Todd, it would seem, actually had a knack for leadership when he put his mind to it. Dirk hadn't been expecting the surge of confidence, had no idea where it came from or how to handle it. But paired with the all-black ensemble it was rather a dashing look.

Dirk refrained from pointing it out, though. They were supposed to save questions and comments to the end, after all.

"Good," said Todd as he stepped aside to allow them a better view of the wall. "Okay, Farah's been staking out the place, and we think we've got a pretty good idea of the layout."

"This fence goes right round the perimeter," Farah explained, pointing between several photographs. "And there's CCTV all over the place- about thirteen cameras, only _three_ consistent with the security round the rest of the zoo, so our guys have been making their own modifications. It's gonna be hard to get anywhere unseen."

"But there's a blind spot on the east side of the fence," said Todd, pointing at one circled picture. "And the way up to it is mostly through tree-cover, so we should be able get there undetected if we go fast. Amanda, Rowdies, you stay put for this bit- especially you, Amanda, we're gonna need you behind the wheel for a quick getaway. Everyone else climbs the fence at the blind spot." He looked at Dirk with concern. "Dirk, you ever climbed a fence before?"

"Pfft, _have I ever climbed a fence,"_ he parroted, dismissing his concerns with a breezy laugh.

His laughter petered off when the entire room turned to stare at him.

"...Well, no, not as such. But honestly, little kids do it all the time- how hard could it possibly be?"

"...Okay, okay, y'know what, we'll cross the bridge-"

"Fence!"

"-when we get to it." Todd turned back to the wall to follow Farah's hand gestures as he spoke. "After that we've got about twenty feet of open ground before we get to the building, and we'll be visible for fifteen. The cameras aren't even our biggest problem- it's the security lighting, it's gonna leave us wide open. So Farah's gonna take out the nearest light with a shot and then we've gotta run for it. Assuming whoever's on watch is good at their job, we've got minutes _at most_ before they realise it's no malfunction and sound the alarms."

"I haven't been _in_ the facility itself yet," said Farah, crossing her arms. "But I've made estimations based on exterior and underground power line placement- thanks for getting us those blueprints, Amanda."

"Hey, no prob.” Amanda, sprawled across at least two Rowdies’ laps, shrugged to hide the fact that she was blushing. “It’s cool that my weird hermit hobbies are good for something.”

“My guess is that the main centre for security- and hopefully where most of the CCTV output gets routed- is in this room-“ she pointed at a space on the blueprint- “which, lucky for us, is pretty damn close to our way in. The fire exit on the east wall, that’s our first target. Soon as we get over the fence and I take out the light, Ken’s gonna disconnect the alarm on the fire door and we’re gonna go in. This entire set-up’s pretty shabby, so we’re guessing-“

“Hoping…” Todd muttered.

“-that these guys are running their operation on a budget. Chances are there’ll only be one person on surveillance, but they could blow our cover at any moment. Ken, soon as we’re through the door you and I are gonna peel off and take care of the security guard.”

“Uh…” Ken tentatively raised his hand, eyes wide. “When you say ‘take care’, you mean…?”

“…Just, like, keep an eye on them and make sure they don’t sound any alarms?”

“Oh! Okay, yeah, good- jeez, don’t scare me like that…”

“Soon as the guard’s under control, Farah’s gonna signal Amanda,” said Todd, nodding towards the huddle of punks on the floor by the coffee table. “That’s when it’s time for you guys to move. Get out and start smashing every camera and security light you can get your hands on. We want to cover ourselves on this one, the less we get caught on camera the better. Attack everything you can reach- go straight for power supplies if you can.”

Martin exhaled a smoke ring and gave a slight nod, arm around Amanda’s shoulders tightening. Beside them Vogel fidgeted and grinned, Cross whistled under his breath and Gripps cracked his knuckles with a gleeful look on his face. Obviously having the most destructive job was appealing to them.

Dirk surreptitiously sidled a few extra inches away.

“The rest of us- that’s me, Dirk and Bart- are gonna keep heading into the facility,” said Todd nodding towards him. “We still don’t know where they’re keeping Rapunzel, so we’re gonna have to check every room we can. Dirk, Bart, you’re gonna stand guard outside while I go in and look.”

“Todd,” said Dirk, shaking his head. “Don’t be silly, you can’t go in alone-!”

“I’ll be fine,” said Todd stubbornly, shutting Dirk down with a look. “I _need_ you guys on lookout, we have no idea how many people are gonna be in the building. We can’t risk them getting the jump on us.”

“Alright, well- why are _you_ the one going in alone?”

Todd met his gaze again, softer this time. “Because… I’m the one who lost her.”

There was beat of silence between them, unbroken by the room at large. It was the first time Dirk had looked Todd in the eye in three days- _really_ looked him in the eyes. Oh, bloody hell. Was _that_ what he’d looked like for the last few days? All tired and guilty and hollow in the cheeks? Why was he… oh. It was what he said, wasn’t it? He’d never… oh, god, now _he_ felt guilty! Oh, he had to fix this. Three days wasn’t too late to apologise for something, was it? But how to go about it…?

But then Todd cleared his throat and carried on, and the moment had passed them by.

“Hopefully we’ll find her quickly,” he said, turning back to the wall so Dirk couldn’t see his face. “And once we do, we make a break for it. We’ll leave the same way we came in, picking up Farah and Ken on the way. Even if the guard’s incapacitated, we need to get the hell out of there as fast as possible. Amanda, soon as we’re on our way we’ll signal you. Then it’s up to you to call the Rowdies back and make sure we’re ready to go. We were gonna use Farah’s car but, uh…”

Dirk looked around the room. Ten of them now altogether, plus their equipment. One car. Oh. That wasn’t promising.

“Van’s yours,” Martin drawled, stubbing out his cigarette on Cross’ proffered leather-clad hand. “S’long as you show her some respect we ain’t gonna have no problems.”

“Thanks,” said Todd, looking to Amanda. “And… I know you said you’d be fine, but, I’d understand if you… y’know… I bet one of the guys would stay in the van, I don’t wanna drag you into-“

“Uh-uh,” she said, shaking her head already. “I wanna get dragged. If you guys are gonna do some stupid brave illegal shit, I’m coming with.”

“Okay,” he said, with a grim nod. “Because once we’re in that van there’s no turning back. We’ve got one shot at this- we’ve gotta make every second count. Anyone has any questions, or anything to say I guess… now’s the time to do it.”

No one spoke. Barely anyone breathed.

Dirk tentatively raised his hand.

“Yes, Dirk?”

“You look very dashing in that outfit.”

 _That_ seemed to break the tension in the room. The Rowdies exploded into laughter and wolf-whistles while Todd looked dazed and embarrassed. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of Farah’s raised eyebrow and lip-bite, but Amanda laughing and yelling “Save it for when we don’t get arrested, lovebirds!” distracted him anyway. Now, there was a thought…

“Todd,” he said, having to raise his voice over the commotion in the room. “How do we get… _not_ arrested?”

“No real names,” said Farah with a decisive nod. “No real _faces_ either, if we can help it. But let’s start with the names.”

Todd agreed with a slow nod, obviously considering something. “Okay. Yeah, codenames…” He looked at her thoughtfully a moment before pointing at her and saying: “You’re Legolas.”

She blinked. “Uh, okay…”

Todd turned back to everyone else, moving finger pointing at each of them in turn. “Amanda, you’re Gimli. Ken: Gandalf. Rowdies: Ringwraiths. Dirk, you’re Samwise, and Bart… you’re, uh… Gollum.”

She frowned. “I dunno what that is.”

“That’s fine, you don’t need to. Great. And I’ll be…” He looked at Dirk, and rolled his eyes. “I’ll be Frodo.”

Dirk’s eyes lit up, he sprang to his feet. “A-ha!”

“I’m not admitting anything, Dirk.”

“Whatever keeps you sane,” Dirk smirked, spinning round to face their little congregation with a manic grin. “Well then! Let’s go get the ring back from Mordor!”

“This code is _very_ flawed…”

“Hush, Ken.”

This was good! This was a good plan, full of careful considerations and good (if slightly thematically inappropriate) codenames. It was good! It would work!

...Possibly.

 

**To Be Continued…**

 


	8. Heroics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the gang incur a considerable amount of property damage in the name of justice.
> 
> WARNINGS: swearing, ableist language (canon-typical), guns/weapons, reckless destruction of property, quarter-life crisis angst, somewhat illegal capers, Friedkin. REFERENCES TO: animal cruelty, smoking.

**The Rowdies’ Van, 2200hrs**

 

The van was awfully cramped with the ten of them packed in like sardines. They managed, somehow, but the tight fit wasn’t helpful in easing the tension on the ride to the zoo.

It was really dawning on everyone, Dirk realised, that they were about to embark on a possibly very dangerous and _very_ illegal rescue mission wherein they had minimal resources, minimal planning, minimal chance of success and perhaps just a smidge too much ambition.

And now it was dawning on him, too.

Shit.

He looked over at Todd, who was currently squished between a couple of Rowdies a few feet to his left. “Todd. Do you think… this is going to work?”

Todd grimaced. “No.”

“Excellent.”

Vogel, from his perch in Gripps’ lap, suddenly perked up and clapped his hands excitedly (right in Todd’s ear, as it happened). “Hey, hey, look, we _totally_ got something! _Look!”_

He reached under Gripps’ seat, fumbling round in the dark a moment before emerging triumphant with a cardboard box. He sat it on his lap, flipped open the flaps and revealed- “Is- is that a _giraffe?”_ Dirk asked, bewildered.

“Uh-huh!” Vogel beamed, picking up what appeared to be a floppy plastic giraffe mask and flinging at Todd. “Sneaky!”

“ _Nice!”_ Gripps grinned, reaching over Vogel’s shoulder to help himself to an owl mask.

“Dibs on the panther!” Cross chimed in, whooping excitedly when Vogel threw it at him and then took the zebra for himself. Martin took the wolf mask he was offered without comment or complaint.

“Um,” said Dirk, awkwardly accepting a fluffy gorilla mask into his hands. “Why do we have these?”

“Where did you _get_ them?” added Todd.

“These…” Farah peered at the tiger mask as it landed in her lap. “These look like the ones they sell here, did- did you guys f- _f_ _ollow me_ to the zoo earlier and rob a stall?!”

All four Rowdies burst out cackling like hyenas.

Farah rolled her eyes. “I- ugh, whatever. Guess we’re breaking enough laws already.”

“Oh, man, this is _crazy,”_ said Amanda, bouncing up and down in her seat, fingers restlessly tapping on the steering wheel. “We’re about to, like, _break in_ to a top-secret illegal facility on a _super_ illegal rescue mission! Dude, anyone else got chills?”

“Yes, Amanda, are you sure you’re…” Dirk trailed off. He didn’t want to say _‘not about to have another agoraphobic meltdown’,_ but…

“It’s okay,” she said, glancing at Dirk in the rear-view mirror with a smile. “I’ll-I’ll be fine. I’m good. Got my boys with me, right boys?”

The Rowdies all whooped loudly, Vogel bouncing across the confined space to slap a lion mask down in Amanda’s lap and nuzzle her hair like a cat while she laughed and reached back to pat his mohawk. What a strange little family she had. Nice, though.

“Why do we gotta do all this stealthy crap?” Bart rumbled, eyeing her bat mask like she expected it to bite her. “Why don’t we just walk in?”

“Someone would see us,” Ken reasoned, perching his panda mask on his head like a jaunty cap.

“So?”

“So… we don’t want that?”

“Huh. Okay…”

“Guys,” said Amanda, more serious now. “We’re almost there.”

 _“Shit,”_ Dirk and Todd breathed, slipping into accidental synchronicity again. Apparently Todd was too nervous to be embarrassed about it this time, though.

“Right. Okay, okay,” Farah muttered, reaching for the key card she’d ‘borrowed’ from a member of staff during her stakeout and handing it to Amanda. “There’s only one gate where we’ll need this- animal transfer unit’s kind of apart from the rest of the zoo. Put on your mask.”

“Wait, Farah,” said Todd, leaning forward. “This van’s pretty recognizable. Aren’t there cameras, or- _Jesus!”_

He almost jumped out of his seat- and Dirk almost jumped out of his _skin-_ when Farah pulled a sizable gun out from under the passenger seat. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Amanda, keep driving.”

“Roger that.”

Farah put on her mask, took a deep breath, and started to _climb out of the window._

“Farah-!” Dirk exclaimed, only to be immediately shushed.

She perched herself on the window frame, apparently hanging onto the van by one hand on the roof rack, entire body minus legs hanging out over the road. She raised the gun, pointed it straight and true to a point Dirk couldn’t see, and pulled the trigger.

_Fwapp!_

“No _way!”_ Amanda laughed with manic delight. “Bullseye!”

Todd raised his eyebrows. “Paintballs? Really?”

“Keep driving!” Farah yelled, firing again.

 _“So_ cool,” Amanda whispered, reluctantly turning her eyes back on the road. When they reached the gate she barely took her foot off the accelerator long enough to swipe the keycard through the machine before they were off again.

Farah took out a few more cameras, not worried about the zoo security coming to check them. Apparently she had the guard’s schedule and patrol routes memorised. Dirk made a mental note to ask her if she’d ever considered a career in investigating later- she’d be a _far_ more effective sidekick than Rapunzel, albeit less fluffy and approachable.

It wasn’t long before they reached the ‘drop-zone’, a shady blind spot in the trees surrounding the unit, and Amanda rolled the van to a stop. She leaned over the back of her seat to look at everyone, briefly flipping up her mask to meet their eyes. “End of the line, folks. Ready?”

Dirk gulped. “As I’ll ever be.”

“Remember the plan, guys,” said Todd, picking up his mask. “We’ve got one shot at this.”

“Keep the engine running,” Farah told Amanda, clicking her paintball gun (along with what looked like a much _realer_ gun) into her holster. “Soon as everyone’s out, we go.”

“Gotcha,” said Amanda with a determined nod.

Silence fell in the van a moment, everyone collecting themselves, running through the plan one more time in their heads.

Then Todd stood up, and the time for sitting around was over.

Oh, _bloody hell._

 

* * *

 

**Rescue Mission Phase 1: Infiltration**

 

First step: climb the fence. Arguably the easiest part of the plan.

Naturally, Dirk made an immediate cock-up of it.

“Shit!” he squeaked, clinging to the chain-link for dear life. He didn’t understand it- he’d taken a good run-up, thrown himself at it with all his might and grabbed on when he reached it! Now he was just sort of… dangling. Why wasn’t he higher up by now?

“You’re supposed to throw yourself _up_ it, not _at_ it!” Todd hissed from a couple of feet above him, voice muffled by the giraffe mask.

“And you’re kinda supposed to move your hands when you’re on it,” Farah contributed helpfully from his other side.

“Move them _where?!”_

“Jesus fu-alright, Dirk, watch me, okay?” said Todd, exasperated, continuing his climb in much slower increments so Dirk could observe. “See? It’s easy- just make sure you always keep at least one hand anchored, ‘kay?”

“And keep your body against the fence,” Farah advised, reaching over and pushing his back when it started to arch away from the wire. “Less strain on your arms.”

“Get a good foothold- yeah, yeah, like that. See? You’re doing it!”

“I thought this’d be easier,” Dirk huffed, dragging himself up by another agonising inch. “This is what little kids do, isn’t it? Climb up things? Never did it myself, but…”

“Yeah, well, kids are lighter,” said Todd, almost to the top of the fence.

“And less aware of their own mortality,” Farah added.

“And bounce off of stuff easier,” Bart chimed in- from the other side of the fence because she’d climbed it in a heartbeat like some kind of… fence… climbing… thing, _oh,_ he was too out-of-breath to think of similes. “You can, like, bowl with ‘em and they just get right back up."

Ken’s voice floated over from just beyond Farah. “How d’you even-?”

“Dirk,” said Todd, and Dirk looked up to find him already at the top of the fence and balanced precariously on the edge. “C’mon, gimme your hand.”

“Are you sure? You might-“

“It’s fine,” Todd huffed, locking one hand round the top fence bar and taking Dirk’s firmly in the other. “Just keep climbing, okay? I won’t let you fall.”

Dirk nodded, put the acceleration of his heart down to adrenaline, and climbed.

When he finally reached the top he was exhausted, delighted, and just a little bit bloody pleased with himself.

And then he realised he now had to climb _down_ the other side. _“Fuck.”_

“Don’t worry, way down’s easier,” said Todd, releasing Dirk’s hand to begin his own descent.

Dirk groaned and followed his lead, clamping his sore hands back on the wire. “ _This_ is what I was missing? Well, this is bloody overrated.”

“You’re doing great, Dirk,” said Farah absentmindedly from below them. She, Bart and Ken were now all safely at ground-level and ready to go, Farah’s head moving as her restless eyes darted back and forth in search of threats.

Fortunately Todd was right- the way down _was_ easier, if only because he could let go and sort of awkwardly stumble-fall for the last bit. But he landed without causing serious injury to himself or others, so he was putting it down as a not-total-disaster. “Ugh,” he muttered, rubbing his stinging palms together once he had both feet firmly back on the ground where they belonged. “Won’t be doing _that_ again in a hurry.”

Todd dropped lightly down beside him. “We have to do it again to get out.”

_“Shit.”_

“Okay guys,” said Farah, nodding towards the building. Dirk followed the motion and saw it- the fire door they’d be using as their entry route. “I’m gonna shoot out that security light. Soon as it’s out, we go- Ken, you take the lead, you’ve gotta disconnect the alarm from that door as quickly as you can.”

Dirk eyed the gun that was definitely _not_ a paintball gun in her hand. “Farah, are you sure you can’t just-?”

“Paint’s not gonna do anything on a light that big. Don’t worry,-“ she gestured to the thingamajig mounted on the barrel- “got a silencer. We only need to use it this once. Hopefully.”

_"'Hopefully’?”_

“Everybody ready?”

Todd nodded, mouth set in a grim line. Ken gave a slightly more nervous nod. Bart just shrugged like Farah was asking what she wanted for dinner and she wasn’t particularly hungry anyway.

Dirk took a deep breath, and nodded. “Ready.”

Farah returned the nod, took aim, and fired.

The bullet left the gun with a sharp, quiet _whoosh_ as it cut through the night air, shattering the light almost instantly and plunging their side of the compound into darkness.

Ken was off almost as fast, sprinting across the fifteen feet of open ground and running his eyes over the door.

“Can you disable it?” Farah asked, jogging to his side. “Is it mechanical? Electromagnetic?”

“I…” Ken frowned, leaning in to examine a little closer. “Wait.”

He reached into his tool belt, pulled out a slim jim, and slotted it in beside the door.

“Be careful!” Dirk hissed, clinging to Todd’s arm. “You could set off the alarm! Or release the hounds! Or set off the alarm _and_ release the hounds! Or-“

_Creeeeeaaaaakkkkkk…_

“…Ah,” said Dirk as the door stood innocently, harmlessly open.

“This thing isn’t connected,” said Ken, testing it a little more. “It’s not even _locked._ ”

“That’s… t-that’s weird,” said Farah, on the alert like she expected the door to change its mind and start blaring the building down at any moment.

Todd was quick to draw attention back to the matter at hand. “N-never mind that, we’ve gotta get moving.” He nodded at Farah and Ken. “Go take care of the security guard. We’ll be as quick as we can.”

“Okay,” she whispered, raising her gun and waiting for Ken to wedge a spanner from his tool belt in place to stop the door closing fully before setting off. “Good luck.”

“Yeah, you too.” Todd turned to Dirk and Bart, jerking his giraffe head towards the building. “Let’s go.”

And just like that he was off, slipping into the darkness of the unit.

And _bloody hell_ was it dark in there.

Dirk gulped, glancing from Todd, to Farah and Ken as they disappeared round a corner, and finally to Bart. He could just make out her eyes peering up at him through the slits in her somewhat disturbing bat mask.

She met his gaze a second, and grunted. “Right behind ya, chum.”

 

* * *

 

**Rescue Mission Phase 2: Invigilation**

 

“Watch your step,” Farah whispered, treading light as a cat across the concrete floor.

“I’m trying…” Ken muttered, because finding his footing in total darkness wasn’t exactly easy. And unlike Farah, years of stealth and combat training was the one thing he _didn’t_ have in his tool belt.

But he didn’t fall on his ass, so he figured he was on the right track.

He _did_ almost fall over when Farah stopped dead and nearly clotheslined him with an arm across his chest. But he caught himself just in time, clutching that arm anxiously as he saw what she’d seen. Light at the end of the hall. _Blue_ light. The guard station.

She looked at him, nodded, and set off again, silent as a shadow.

He gulped and followed, raising the pistol he’d been given. It wasn’t loaded, it was more to give the guy a scare, but it still felt real heavy in his hand. Hopefully he’d be able to point it at someone’s head without letting his hand shake.

Farah rounded the corner first, firearm raised and ready. The guard station was practically a closet- a dark, screen-filled closet- so she had the barrel against the guard’s head pretty much the second she stepped into the light. “No sudden moves,” she said firmly, nudging the back of his head with the barrel. “Turn round. _Slowly.”_

Ken raised his own gun and tried to look like a boss while the guy spun slowly in his squeaky office chair- then he remembered he was wearing a panda mask and there was only so much he could do. When the guy was fully turned round with Farah’s gun pointed right at his good-looking forehead she spoke again, sounding blindsided. _“You?_ ”

“Hey, don’t shoot,” the guy said with his hands in the air. “I’m just doing my job!”

“Your _job?_ You _kidnapped_ my friend’s _dog!”_

Ken stared at her, wide-eyed beneath the mask. “No way, this is the guy?”

“Ugh, sorry. It’s my boss, he- he wants, like, a _lot_ of dogs!” the guy said, and he kinda sounded like he didn’t fully understand the words coming out of his own mouth. “And, like, other animals I guess. But dogs are everywhere, and cats are super fast and I can’t always catch ‘em, so…”

“O…kay. J-just, hold that thought, one second.” Farah shook her head and unclipped her walkie-talkie from her belt, holding the transmit button. “Gimli, this is Legolas- Sauron’s eye is blinded, release the Ringwraiths, over.”

Ken heard an indistinct crackle on the line before the answering: “…Saywhatnow?”

“We’ve got the guard- release the Rowdies.”

“Oh! Okay, gotcha, I’m on it- over!”

Farah clipped the walkie back in place and turned her full attention on the guard, eyes narrowed. “’Kay. How ‘bout you tell me _exactly_ what kind of operation you’re running, here?”

“I’m, uh…” He frowned, eyebrows drawing together. “I, mean… uh, I can try, I guess?”

Oh, man. They were gonna be here a while…

 

* * *

 

The walkie-talkie fizzed into silence as Amanda released the talk button.

She held it to her chest a moment, closing her eyes and breathing deep. Okay. Okay, next step. Half her friends were in the crazy shady lab place, and now it was time for the other half to go fuck some shit up.

“’Kay, guys,” she said, willing her voice to come out without wavering. She almost succeeded. “Ringwraiths are go- get out there!”

An excited chorus of whoops and yells answered her, the boys pulling down their masks and snatching up their bats and crowbars. Cross threw open the door and they tumbled out into the night, taking their comforting racket with them.

Amanda clamped her hands on the wheel and took a deep breath. They’d be fine. _She’d_ be fine. She just had to stay put. Outside, in a van in the woods. Alone. It was cool, she could handle it. It was fine. She was fine. She was good, it was _aaaaaaallllllllllllll_ fine.

Except she almost jumped out the freaking window when a hand landed on her shoulder, so maybe it wasn’t all _that_ fine.

She looked up, and Martin looked down. Mask flipped up, hand squeezing her shoulder, he looked her calmly in the eye.

“Ain’t such a big world out there,” he said smoothly, hand moving from her shoulder to stroke her hair. “And we ain’t going far. Don’t be scared, Drummer Girl- we’ll see you again.”

He waited for her to catch her breath, calm her racing heartbeat and signal with a smile and a nod before releasing her with a last pat on her head. He sprang from the van with a howl, triggering an answering call from his boys in all the directions they’d scattered. He turned back to her one last time, pointing with his bat.

“You need us back,” he said, flipping his mask back down. “Just holler.”

“I will,” she smiled, jauntily saluting. “Give ‘em hell.”

He nodded, turned round, and disappeared into the trees along with his boys.

Seconds later, another chorus of howls echoed through the night.

Despite everything- the worry, the rising panic, the crushing fear that came with knowing she was more open and exposed in that moment than she had been in years- she laughed.

Her friends were fucking weirdos.

 

* * *

 

**3 ½ Confusing Minutes Later**

 

Farah watched in satisfaction as the screens behind the guard’s head went blank one by one. The Rowdies were making good time on their destructive rampage. She could still see Todd, Dirk and Bart running round on the interior feed, though, so they hadn’t found any power supplies yet. At least everyone was masked up.

She hoped Todd’s plans were going well, because trying to get coherent information out of this guard was… frustrating. And it wasn’t down to lack of willingness, either- the guy seemed only too happy to talk. Problem was most of what he was saying was… well, inane and ill-informed gibberish.

“I don’t even _know_ what he’s doing with ‘em!” he laughed, gesticulating wildly. “H-he tried to explain it to me, once, but there- there were a lot of long words, and I wasn’t paying attention, ‘cause, like, I don’t need to know that stuff, right? All I do is… _get_ the things! That’s all I do, I just- I just get animals, y’know? And, and I watch these screens too, I guess, but… Ugh, this, this isn’t what I wanted, right? When he said I got the job he said I could carry a _gun_ , and, and I thought that meant I could like… _do_ stuff, y’know? I thought I was gonna be like a _bodyguard_ or a, or a- something else. But I just look at _screens_ and kidnap _dogs,_ and I don’t even know _why!_ But it’s, it’s money, right? I mean, he’s probably gonna fire me, I mean… _God,_ why’d I leave that door open? I’m so _stupid-_ but, that alarm, it’s really loud and, and hard to turn off and I just wanna go out for a smoke sometimes, y’know? Aw, man. My boss is gonna kill me…”

“Seriously?” said Ken, staring incredulously at the guard and pointing to Farah’s gun, which was still planted _directly_ on his head. _“_ Your _boss_ is what you’re worried about right now?”

“Oh,” said the guard, looking at the gun as if he’d only just remembered it was there. “Yeah, _duh._ Oh, man, it’s been a _long_ day.”

“ _Oh,_ my God, just- just g-gimme those,” Farah stuttered angrily, waving her free hand at a shelf of files on the far side of the desk. Clearly they needed to look somewhere _else_ for a coherent info source.

“I’m, uh, not supposed to…”

She clicked the safety off.

“…Yeah, yeah, okay, sure, lemme get those for you…”

Man. Any half-wit with a trigger finger could be a lackey, these days.

 

* * *

 

**Rescue Mission Phase 3: In-Getting-The-Actual-Dog-Out-Ation**

~~**I Ran Out of ‘I’ Words Todd This Is A Very Stressful Situation Stop Judging Me** ~~

 

“Anything?”

“No,” Todd huffed, brushing past Dirk and Bart. “Let’s try the next one.”

“Look at you running around, investigating things, infiltrating top-secret laboratories,” Dirk grinned, keeping pace easily- Todd only had little legs, after all. “You’re like James Bond!”

“Who’s that?” Bart asked, but she didn’t sound terribly interested so Dirk didn’t bother answering.

“Keep your voices down.” Todd skidded to a halt outside another door, pressing his body to the wall beside it as he listened out for signs of life in the hall beyond. Dirk hastily fell in beside him, Bart following suit in a much more casual manner. She didn’t appear to be fazed by the pressure of the situation in the slightest.

Todd turned his face to Dirk, eyes wide. “There’s something in there.”

“Or some _one,”_ Dirk hissed, pulling Todd a little further from the door by his sleeves.

“It might be Rapunzel.”

“Or it might be whoever _took_ her,” said Dirk, holding tight to the fabric. “We should contact Farah, she’ll know what to do.”

“No, I have to go in there,” said Todd, shaking Dirk’s hands free. “This is what we planned, remember?”

“Todd, you’re not even armed!”

“I’ve got this.” He held up one of Farah’s pistols.

“That’s not even _loaded!”_

“Yeah, but they don’t know that,” Todd muttered. He looked up at Dirk, and he could’ve _sworn_ that their eyes somehow met through the masks. “I have to do this, and I need you guys to cover me. Stay here, make sure no one comes in.”

“Todd…”

 _“Dirk,”_ he snapped, as loudly as he dared. “I need you to _trust me._ Okay?”

It was firm, that was for sure. Decisive. But it was the edge of desperation in his voice that made it truly impossible to argue. “…Alright, yes. Yes, of… of course, Todd. I trust you.”

Todd sighed, lowering the gun a second. “Thank you.”

“And, um…”

Todd looked at him again, frozen in anticipation, and it occurred to Dirk that this probably wasn’t the best time, but, well, the guilt had been gnawing at him for quite some time now and if Todd went in there and something went wrong- “I’m sorry,” he blurted, hoping that somehow Todd could see through his mask that he was telling the truth. “That I ever accused you, Todd, I… I know you would never do something like- something like what I _said_ you did.”

“It’s okay,” Todd whispered, shrugging. “It’s… not like I never gave you reasons to think it, so…”

“Todd-“

“No, seriously,” he cut Dirk off, shaking his head. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you. But they got Rapunzel on _my watch,_ and I- I need to do this. And I need to do it _now,_ so…”

“Yes. Yes, of course,” Dirk breathed, briefly shutting his eyes to quell the rising panic. He reached out and tentatively patted Todd’s shoulder, and it didn’t feel like enough but for the time being it would have to be. “Good luck in there, Frodo.”

He didn’t need to see through the mask to know Todd was rolling his eyes. “Yeah. Thanks, Sam.”

Todd raised the gun, took a deep, steadying breath, and disappeared down the corridor.

For a moment Dirk and Bart just stood in silence, listening to the soft sounds of Todd’s shoes on the concrete fade into silence.

 _God,_ Dirk had had enough silence to last a _lifetime_.

“…Fancy a game of I-Spy?”

 

* * *

 

The sounds were getting louder with every step he took. Fortunately, none of them sounded all that human.

Todd followed the quiet scratching, shuffling and snuffling to its source. But it was taking him past a lot more doors, and a lot further away from Dirk and Bart than he’d like. He just had to pray that they were both keeping their eyes and ears open.

It was completely dark down here, and there wasn’t a soul in sight. They must be running on a skeleton crew- he figured they’d have had a much harder time busting in if this place had a decent budget and matching workforce. Hopefully the way out would be as easy…

Finally he reached the door where the sounds were at their loudest, listened out a moment longer, and then slowly pushed it open.

The room beyond was just as dark as the hall, but the second the door was open the noises tripled in volume. Suddenly other sounds were joining the mix- barking, squeaking, meowing, all clamouring for attention as he entered.

“Holy _shit,”_ he breathed, gaping at the cages. There were _pile_ _s_ of them, lined up and stacked around the walls, most of them empty, the others containing a selection of loudly screeching animals. Birds, cats, guinea pigs, rats. Dogs.

One dog in particular.

“Rapunzel!” he exclaimed, almost laughing with relief as he sprinted to her cage, tucking the unloaded gun in his waistband. “Thank _God!”_

She didn’t immediately respond beyond a whimper, and he realised he was still wearing a creepy mask. He checked for cameras, and lifted it when he found the coast was clear. Rapunzel responded with a happy yap, tail wagging and stubby paws stamping.

He grinned, fiddling with the bolt on the cage. “It’s good to see you too, girl,” he said. What’s more, he actually _meant_ it. Even when he got the door open and she made a beeline to his face to cover it in slobbery licks. “Okay, okay- c’mon, we gotta go,” he laughed, shrugging off his backpack and holding it open beneath the cage door. “C’mon! It’s okay! C’mon, you can do it, girl…”

It took a bit more coaxing to get her in, but once she was properly settled inside with her head poking out the top she seemed happy enough. He carefully lifted the bag onto his back again. It was pretty heavy, but he didn’t have much chance of climbing a fence with a dog in his arms. “Keep quiet,” he whispered, straightening up and pulling the mask back down. “We’ve gotta get out of- _”_

_Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt._

Suddenly the room was flooded with light, the ancient neons humming to life. He winced, shielding his eyes from the overhead glare as he turned to the door.

And came face to face with a startled man in a lab coat.

Neither of them moved for a beat, just observing each other in shock. Todd held his breath, heart racing, making distant observations– stocky, moustache, balding- about the guy on automatic.

But then that beat was over.

The man snatched a walkie-talkie from his belt, lunging forwards. “Friedkin!” he barked. "Friedkin, where the hell are you?! We have a breach!”

_SHIT._

 

* * *

 

_“Friedkin!”_

Ken jumped as the crackly yell broke the guard off mid-ramble.

 _“Friedkin, where the hell are you?! We have a breach!”_ the walkie-talkie fizzed out.

Farah looked at the wall of screens, and swore. _“Shit.”_

Ken followed her gaze to a screen on the top right, and watched in horror as Todd grappled with a charging man in a lab coat. _“SHIT!”_ he echoed, glancing between Farah and the screen in panic. “What do we-?!”

And that’s when everything went black.

 

* * *

 

**About Two Seconds Ago**

 

 _Attack_ everything _you can reach,_ that’s what the little guy said.

And Vogel was a good climber- there wasn’t much he _couldn’t_ reach!

He’d been smashing _everything-_ cameras and lights and windows, it was _awesome._ He’d even climbed the fence so he could smash _more_ stuff!

And now he was standing by something big and square and mounted on the wall, and all he’d had to do was smash a lil’ metal door to get there.

Aw, man, he was gonna smash this thing _so bad!_

He took aim, laughed maniacally, and lobbed his baseball bat as hard as he could.

 

* * *

 

**Back In The Now**

 

Todd managed to break free of the lab coat guy’s desperate tackle just as the lights went off, and in the ensuing chaos and disorientation did the first thing he could think of.

He started throwing stuff.

He didn’t know why his first instinct was to blindly grab and hurl empty cages at the guy’s head instead of going for the gun or, say, _getting the fuck out of there._

But one of them hit true and sent the guy sprawling, so he wasn’t gonna argue with results.

Soon as the guy was down he turned tail and ran, still clutching an empty cage in his hands and wondering how the _hell_ that guy managed to sneak up on him. He must’ve been in one of the other rooms Todd passed on the way down.

Jesus, why didn’t Dirk or Bart _warn_ him?!

 

* * *

 

“I Spy, with my little eye,” said Dirk thoughtfully, peering around the gloomy space. There wasn’t a lot to be spying, in all honesty, but he was trying his best. “Something beginning with… C!”

“I ain’t playing,” Bart rumbled, hand up under her mask. Biting her nails again, most likely.

“Well, we have to do _something!”_ Dirk reasoned, hands on hips. “And we can’t exactly play hide and seek- it’s bad enough that we left our post _once_. Don’t tell Todd, by the way. He’ll only get annoyed.”

“So?” she said, shrugging. “It’s funny when people get mad. Ken’s hilarious when he’s mad.”

“Ah, yes, _Gandalf,”_ said Dirk meaningfully, leaning in a little closer. “You two seem awfully… _close.”_

“I guess.”

“So?” he pressed with a knowing smile that she definitely couldn’t see but he was gonna wear anyway. “Is there something… _going on?_ Between the two of you?”

“Huh?”

“You know! Goings-on of the… _romantic_ variety?”

“No…”

“Are you _sure?”_

She was starting to sound annoyed. This might have been a mistake. “What’s it to you?”

“I’m your friend!” he said, prodding her shoulder as firmly as he dared (which is to say, not very firmly at all). “That’s what friends do! Tell each other the juicy details of their love lives! That’s what all the sitcoms say.”

“Okay. You go first.”

“Beg your pardon?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. Tell me your weird romantic Todd stuff, if that’s what we’re s’posed to do.”

“Romantic _Todd-?!_ Hang on!” he spluttered, blushing furiously and cursing himself for it. “Todd and I are- there’s nothing- why would you even think-?!”

“Huh. I dunno, kinda figured you were a thing. You ain’t?” she looked him up and down, and snorted lightly. “Weird.”

Dirk was about to demand an explanation- and he didn’t know whether to be indignant or embarrassed about the accusation just yet because he was still bloody processing, frankly- when Todd came barrelling through the door.

“Move!” he yelled, barging past them both. His barging capabilities were greatly aided by the large metal cage in his hands.

“Todd!” Dirk exclaimed, staggering to catch up. “To-er, Frodo, what happened? Where’s-“

_“Arf!”_

“Rapunzel!” Dirk grinned in disbelief at his dog’s little face as it bounced around on Todd’s back. “Frodo, you _found_ her!”

“Yeah, and that’s not all I found,” Todd huffed, sounding concerned and maybe just a little annoyed. “Power cut saved my skin. What the _hell?_ Someone came in! You were supposed to be listening out, what happened?”

Oh. Oh dear. Dirk paled, mortified. “Shit. Todd, I swear, we only left for a-a _minute_ _!_ ”

“What, why did you _leave?!”_

“I thought I saw someone coming! We were going to hide and radio you! We only went round the corner!”

“So you _did_ see him coming? Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t him. Turned out the man I saw was just my shadow. But _Gollum_ here was shining her torch _right_ on me, it was a _very_ easy mistake to make.”

“Are you _fucking-_ no, you know what, never mind, let’s just- let’s just _get the hell out of here.”_ He shoved the empty cage he was carrying into Bart’s hands. “If he comes after us, throw this at him, it’ll slow him down.”

She peered into the cage. “You wanna throw _cats_ at him? Okay…”

“What? No, it’s emp- _fuck.”_

Dirk looked past Todd at the cage in Bart’s hands. It took some squinting to make out the small ball of black fluff at the bottom.

Todd snatched the cage back, cursing under his breath. “Great. Okay, guess we have a cat now.”

_“Hey!”_

“Shit,” Todd hissed, glancing over his shoulder and running a bit faster. “Run!”

Dirk followed his gaze to the very angry moustachioed man chasing them with a large scalpel. “Shit!” he squeaked, matching Todd’s pace.

Bart looked too, but for some incomprehensible reason her instinct was to _stop_ running. Before Dirk had a chance to call out she was turning round and stalking right back the way they’d come.

“Ba-Gollum, no, stop-!” Todd yelled in panic, skidding to halt.

But Bart was advancing on the scalpel man like a jungle cat, arms swaying to her own ferocious beat. She knocked the blade from his hand with a flick of her wrist.

And then knocked _him_ out with the hand attached to it.

It was both impressive and _absolutely bloody terrifying._

“Holy _shit,”_ Todd said under his breath, barely audible through his mask.

Bart looked up at them, a thin splatter of blood from the man’s broken nose decorating her mask.

Dirk nodded slowly, heart in his throat. “Now imagine living in a _car_ with her…”

Predatory edge gone, slouching like a slumberous lioness, Bart shambled over with a shrug and a grunt. “Are we goin’ or what?”

 

* * *

 

**2 ¼ Minutes Later**

 

“Legolas!”

“Frodo,” Farah grunted, not taking her eyes or hands off of their hostage.

“Jesus,” Todd breathed, probably catching sight of the chaos in the room. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah- this guy just kinda flipped out on us when the power cut,” she said, tightening her grip on the struggling guard’s hands. She had him pinned on the ground. He may be strong but she was fast and it had worked to her advantage. “Did you find her?”

“Yeah, but we gotta go- now!”

The gormless guard peered up at them from the floor, furrowing his shapely eyebrows. “Hey, uh, I’m not supposed to let you-“

She took him out with a swift whack from the butt of her gun before he could get through another clumsy sentence. “Idiot,” she muttered, grabbing a couple of the files they’d been digging through before the blackout. Everything they were doing here was totally illegal, and she was gonna make sure they went down for it. She tossed her phone- well, not _her_ phone, a burner phone, she wasn’t _stupid-_ to Ken. “Call 911, tell ‘em there’s been a break-in. There’s tons of incriminating stuff here for them to find, but I’ve got these as backup in case these assholes manage to burn the evidence before they get here.”

Ken nodded, hastily dialling as Farah went for her walkie-talkie. “Gimli, this is Legolas- the Ring is recovered, call back the Ringwraiths. We are leaving Mordor- repeat: _we are leaving Mordor,_ over.”

“Jeez, these codes really are a mess…” Todd muttered.

And then the alarm went off.

Dirk jerked his head up towards the flashing red light on the ceiling. _“Shit!”_

“Looks like our friend woke up,” said Todd grimly, grabbing Dirk’s hand and bolting for the hall. “C’mon, let’s go!”

Best goddamn idea she’d heard all day.

They sprinted for the fire door, finding it wedged open just as they’d left it. Thank _god,_ they needed to get out of here as quickly as- “The fence!” she yelled, inwardly cursing herself. “We have to get back over the fence.”

Todd looked over his shoulder at her, reading her mind. If it was just them they’d be fine, but getting Dirk over the fence that quickly… one of them was gonna have to hang back and hold them off.

She dropped her gaze down, to Dirk’s trembling hand in Todd’s.

“Go,” she said, setting her jaw. “Get him out of here.”

“Farah-“

_“Outta the way, chump!”_

“What the-?!” Farah spluttered, feeling the impact as something small yet forceful barrelled right past her.

The thing, which turned out to be Bart running and screeching like a bat out of hell (literally- the Rowdies sure picked the right mask for her), made straight for the fence with no intention of slowing down. Farah didn’t even get a chance to yell out a warning before Bart was throwing herself at it with a guttural roar.

And with such force that she _ripped the freaking chain-link straight from its moorings._

“How the hell-?” she heard Todd yelp.

Farah recovered from her shock quickly- now wasn’t the time to be looking gift horses in the mouth. “Move!” she ordered, shoving the astonished Ken’s shoulder to get him going.

They all bolted, making use of the new loose flap in the fence to make a quick getaway. Ken paused to run off some last words to the 911 call operator before hanging up and helping Bart to her feet. Farah hung back to cover them, but no one emerged from the fire door- whoever was chasing them obviously hadn't figured out how they got in yet.

As soon as Bart was up they were off again, crashing through the undergrowth. She could see Dirk and Todd up ahead, clambering in through the open van door. She put on a last burst of speed and launched herself in behind them, immediately finding herself with a face full of leather jacket. So the Rowdies made it back in one piece, then. Good to know.

"Drive!" she yelled, before Bart and Ken had even closed the door behind them.

 _"Way_ ahead of you," said Amanda, hammering the accelerator.

There was a sickening moment of inertia while the tires skidded on mud and leaves. When they broke free they rocketed forward- Farah felt her stomach drop down to her knees from the g-force.

The fact that Amanda managed to get them out at that speed without folding them round a tree was nothing short of a miracle.

The noise and flashing lights receded behind them, the dense undergrowth gave way to gravel.

But Farah wasn't even gonna think about letting her guard down 'til they were through that gate and in the clear.

As soon as Amanda swiped the card and shot through the gate, Farah tapped her shoulder. "Hey, pull off down this road up ahead."

Amanda did just that, taking them off the route they took to get there.

Just in time to listen to the wailing sirens of the police cars as they sped past behind them.

Farah leaned up, peering through the grubby back window at the red and blue lights fading into the distance. That would be the cops, responding to an anonymous call reporting a hostile break-in. Those guys were gonna find more than they bargained for.

But not them.

They'd made it.

 

* * *

 

“Jesus,” Todd gasped, doubled over and catching his breath. “I-I can’t believe we just _did_ that, Christ, are we _insane?!”_

“Wo-ho- _hoah!”_ Amanda laugh-yelled, bouncing up and down in her seat. “That was _so_ cool! Oh, my God, that was, like, the _coolest thing_ anyone’s ever done!”

“Rescuing a dog?”

“ _I_ _llegally_ rescuing a dog! It’s so _punk!”_

Dirk made sure he had enough air back in his lungs to keep upright before lunging for Todd’s backpack. “Rapunzel!”

She barked happily, laying big sloppy dog kisses all over his face.

“Think she missed you,” Todd smiled, carefully shrugging the bag off his shoulders- made _slightly_ difficult by the fact that he was holding a caged kitten and surrounded by a ring of Rowdies. But he managed it somehow, and in no time Dirk had an armful of happy corgi.

He buried his face in her silky fur with a ragged, relieved breath. It turned into a laugh when he heard the sound of more licking and a classic Todd groan. “Think she missed you, too!”

He lifted his head just in time to see Todd ducking his to hide a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, well, I guess I… I kinda missed her, too.”

Dirk looked round the van at everyone taking their masks off, revealing exhausted but smiling faces. He saw Ken fussing over Bart and her fence scratches. Amanda chattering excitedly at Farah while she sagged in her seat. The Rowdies whooping and wrestling and cuddling like rambunctious puppies, Vogel with a little more soot and a much bigger smile on his face than before. It was crammed, and chaotic and he could barely breathe because he was packed in on all sides by people.

By _friends._

“Dirk?” Todd asked softly, looking up at him with the Concerned Brows in place. Good riddance to that bloody mask- he’d missed having his face to read as well as his words. “You okay?”

“Yes, I’m…” he cleared his throat against the thickness in his voice. “Thank you.”

Todd shrugged in what Dirk suspected was false nonchalance. “Hey, it was kinda the least I could do after-“

“No, no it wasn’t!” Dirk insisted, shaking his head. This was _not_ a thing he’d allow the daft man to devalue. “That- that wasn’t the _least_ anything! That was _incredible!_ That was… that was the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in…”

He cleared his throat again. Stupid emotion, making his mouth all not-worky. “Just… thank you. All of you! Amanda, you- you _left the house,_ even though it scares you, just to help! And Ken! You were anxious about this but you came anyway, you pointed a _gun_ at someone! For us! I know we didn’t need you to hack the door in the end but you _would_ have done and that’s _amazing!_ And Bart, I, I know this isn’t how you would’ve done it, but you came anyway, and… Farah! Farah, all that recon, all that _planning,_ we _never_ could have done _any_ of this without you! You’re an _incredible_ person! All of you are! Martin, Vogel, Gripps, Cross, you… well, you don’t know me or Todd that well but you came too and we’d probably be bloody _toast_ if you hadn’t killed the power. And Todd…”

He didn’t honestly know whether he wanted to laugh or cry. It felt like he was starting to do just a bit of both. “Todd, thank you for… _everything._ I can’t thank you, _any_ of you enough, I’m… _amazed,_ frankly, that any of you would do something like this for me, let alone that _all_ of you would, and… _thank you,_ so much, I-“ he laughed breathlessly and cuddled Rapunzel tighter- “ _we’ll_ never forget it!”

Todd was watching him, red-faced and embarrassed at all the praise, but there was something _warm_ in his eyes, too. Something that felt like home. “Thanks, Dirk,” he said quietly, holding the cage with the softly mewling kitten as if he was hugging it. As if he _wanted_ to be hugging something else. “But it’s fine, it’s… it’s what friends-“ he glanced at Amanda in the front seat- “ _boyfriends_ are for, right?”

She snorted, glancing over her shoulder with a wry smile. _“Please._ None of the pieces of shit I’ve dated would’ve _ever_ done something this insane for me." She reached over the back of her seat to punch Dirk lightly on the arm. “Hold on to that weirdo. He’s crazy ‘bout you.”

Bart looked over at him, eyebrow raised, eyes penetrating.

Todd blushed bright crimson as a selection of Rowdies cheered and thumped him on the back. Dirk was aware that he was probably a matching shade right now. He wasn’t sure what this feeling jumping about in his chest was. Could have been the relief and exhilaration of a mission completed. Could have been the guilt of knowing that so many of these people were happily believing a lie that it was far too late to own up to. Could have been… something else.

Todd looked at him over the enthusiastic Rowdies, and shrugged helplessly. And slightly adorably.

Yes. _Definitely_ something else.

…Hmm. Inconvenient.

 

* * *

 

**Two Days Later**

 

By Thursday, everything was back to normal.

Well, besides the tension in the air that came with worrying that the police could find a clue leading back to them and come hammering on their door at any minute. But Dirk seemed happy to cross that bridge when they got to it, and Todd figured that for once in his life he could try and have the same approach.

He loved Thursdays. He got them off work, so they were kind of _his_ day. His day to listen to music and play videogames and basically be as fucking lazy as he wanted. Well, so was every _other_ day, honestly. But he felt less guilty about it on Thursdays.

Of course, then Dirk had come along, and his Thursday routine got thrown off a bit. They were still _his_ day, technically, he still did what _he_ wanted to do. But with Dirk having no real job to go to and the attention span of a goldfish, he’d kinda just started tagging along with whatever Todd was doing. Which was weird, at first. Todd was used to being alone- he kinda _liked_ being alone, sometimes. So sharing his ‘me time’ with another person was weird and annoying to begin with. But he got used to it, and he could grudgingly admit that Dirk was actually good company when he wasn’t going on and on about old cases, and eventually he started to sort of _enjoy_ it.

Somewhere over the last few months, Thursdays had gone from being _his_ day to being… well, _their_ day.

Then Dirk got Rapunzel, and he had to re-adjust all over again.

Suddenly he wasn’t enjoying Thursdays so much anymore. Every time they sat down to play Halo, Dirk would throw the game by getting distracted when the dog did something ‘cute’ (which apparently covered basically every single fucking thing she did). Every time Todd put music on Dirk would talk over it, _always_ to the damn dog.

It wasn’t jealousy. He didn’t fucking care what Farah said, he was _not_ jealous. So what if Dirk’s attention was more divided now? He could do what he wanted. He could spend their entire day fawning over some stupid corgi if he wanted. Who cared?

…Just Todd, apparently.

Why were his friends always right when he least wanted them to be?

“That sounds nice.”

Todd looked up from his guitar a moment. Dirk smiled at him from his blanket burrito, feet sticking out and waggling in time with the music. Curled against his side and twitching her paws like she was dreaming of their great escape, Rapunzel dozed soundly. The TV hummed quietly in the background, the news droning on as Dirk half-listened, but his focus was on Todd’s guitar practice.

“Is that the song you’ve been working on?” Dirk asked, drawing the blanket tighter around himself.

“Yeah,” said Todd, glancing down as he felt something batting at his strumming hand. He rolled his eyes and picked up the kitten- she had habit of waddling over and bugging him when he was playing.

“I think Jaws likes it, too,” Dirk grinned, freeing his hands from the blanket to take her.

“Or she just likes chasing moving things- is that _seriously_ the name we’re going with?”

“Well, she _is_ awfully bitey!” said Dirk, kitten proving his point by nibbling on his fingers as he cuddled her to his chest.

Todd was about to go into a lengthy argument for why Jaws was the stupidest cat name ever when a trailing sentence from the TV caught his attention.

“-Seattle Central Zoo. Police responded to an anonymous phone call reporting a break-in on the premises late Tuesday night. On arrival they discovered something far more concerning- an unlicensed animal testing facility, operating out of an abandoned building on the zoo grounds.”

Todd and Dirk watched the screen with bated breath- even the kitten stopped fidgeting a moment. An image came up behind the reporter- a mug shot of the moustache guy who almost caught them.

“Frontrunner of the operation, Scott Riggins, was apprehended at the scene. Evidence was found of Riggins’ dealings with various cosmetic manufacturers and pharmaceutical enterprises, many of whom have had products recalled and animal testing licences revoked. It is believed that Riggins, who has been running his operation undeclared and in direct contradiction of the Animal Welfare Act, has been running illicit further testing on the banned products for financial gain. The investigation into the extent of his dealings is ongoing, but with early evidence pointing to several years of unlicensed and unmonitored animal testing as well as tax evasion and fraud, a prison sentence is almost certain. The animals found alive at the scene, several of which were stolen from local residents or the zoo itself, have been safely returned to their homes. No further information has been discovered on the masked intruders caught on camera at the scene, or the anonymous caller.”

“Todd!” Dirk exclaimed, slapping his arm enthusiastically. “Todd, we did it! We got away with it!”

“Shit,” Todd breathed, with a disbelieving laugh. “We actually did.”

“I knew we would,” said Dirk, sounding pretty fucking pleased with himself.

Todd didn’t even have it in him to argue, or call Dirk out for being smug about a plan that he didn’t lift a finger in conceiving. He was too busy processing the fact that he’d proposed, planned and carried out an actual fucking _prison break_ (well, kinda) and somehow not gotten caught.

And all because some asshole stole his roommate’s dog.

How was _that_ for effort?

He looked up at their gorilla and giraffe masks, pinned up on the wall above the TV. He looked at Dirk, cooing over the small, bitey kitten in his hands and the sleepy dog at his side, looking warm and happy and comfortable.

Making the whole _apartment_ look warm and happy and comfortable.

Yeah. He figured he could get the hang of Thursdays again.

_Bzzzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzzt._

Todd frowned, reaching for his phone and muttering: “Who’s that?”

“Probably Farah or someone,” said Dirk with a shrug. “Ooh, better tell them the news!”

“Dirk…”

“That’ll make their day, whoever they are!”

_“Dirk.”_

“Now we can finally stop worrying about the police turning up and everything can get back to-“

Todd silenced him with a shove, staring at the caller I.D. Sean. Sean the bassist. Sean, the bassist and _co-founder_ of the Mexican Funeral. It was the first time he’d bothered to call Todd since… shit, since _everything._

He should let it go to voicemail.

 _Beep._ “…H-hi, Sean.”

“Todd! Long time, no see- how’s things?”

“Uh… Good. Yeah, yeah, they’re good. How’s, uh, how’s the band?”

“Yeah, that’s actually what I was…” a sigh crackled through the line. “Can we- can we, like, meet up? To talk about it?”

“…Yeah. Yeah, sure okay.”

“Great! Hey, uh, are you free right now?”

Todd glanced at the TV, at the guitar, at Dirk’s wide, worried eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m- I’m not busy.”

“Cool- uh, the bar? Thirty minutes?”

“I’ll be there.”

He hung up before he could hear anything else, pulse hammering in his ears, phone dropping to the couch as his hand went slack.

Nothing could quite penetrate the noise in his head. Not the TV’s incessant drone, not the kitten’s worried mewling.

Not even Dirk’s voice, floating softly over from seemingly miles away. As if from the other side of a slowly widening chasm.

“…Normal.”

 

**To Be Continued…**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Todd...


	9. Uncertainties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everything goes spectacularly tits-up.
> 
> WARNINGS: swearing, ableist language (canon-typical), quarter-life crisis angst, arguments and fall outs, alcohol, reckless destruction of property. REFERENCES TO: drugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the final angsty stretch! Hats off to ya if you've made it this far! ^_^
> 
> And if you're wondering where I got inspiration for the appearances/names of the Mexican Funeral, [wellllllllll....](http://68.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mdi62xIBpt1r7mp95o1_500.jpg)

**6½ Minutes Later**

 

Dirk had never had what you'd call a _strong_ grasp on the concept of time, nor had he ever particularly wanted one. Time, in his opinion, was one of the universe's most nebulous and vexing qualities, as impossible to define as it was to _con_ fine, and no amount of creative chopping and numbering could ever hope to make sense of something so fundamentally senseless.

Time was a currency, simultaneously limited and infinite- essentially, it was a broken economy from the get-go. Dirk spent time without realising, and he spent it quickly. If seconds were pennies, he was on a losing streak at the arcade.

But it seemed that the value of that currency varied greatly from person to person. Six and a half minutes, for example, was _not_ a long time, particularly not at the rate that Dirk burned through it. He could spend six and a half minutes seemingly between one blink and the next and never even know it was gone.

Todd Brotzman, however, was displaying an impressive and _alarming_ ability to take those measly six and a half minutes, and squeeze about a month's worth of panicky overthinking into them.

If it weren't such a stressful sight to behold, he'd applaud the man for getting his moneys' worth.

"I have to go, right?" Todd asked, although Dirk got the distinct impression that he wasn't _actually_ asking. "I mean, it- it could be important, it could be... _Shit._ I've gotta go, I've gotta..."

For the last six and a half minutes he'd been slingshotting back and forth between _going_ and _not going_ fast enough to give Dirk whiplash; honestly, he'd never known it was possible for one mind to change so many times in such a bafflingly tiny space of time!

That being said, he'd take tumultuous indecision over _wrong_ decisions any day of the week.

Evidently, Todd was going to leave him disappointed on that front. "Right," he said, mouth set in a grim line as he snatched his jacket up from the sofa. "Okay, that's it. I'm going."

"Todd," said Dirk, standing up despite the protests of the various small animals currently residing in his lap. "Are you _absolutely_ sure you want to do this?"

"They're- they're my band, Dirk," said Todd quietly, shrugging on his jacket. It was the denim one, the one he thought made him look cool. Which it did, in Dirk's opinion- but now wasn't the time to compliment his fashion choices. "I have to at least hear them out. I mean, maybe they just wanna yell at me some more, but-"

"Todd..."

"-maybe not, maybe they- maybe they wanna _apologise_ for everything, or-"

_"Todd-!"_

"And maybe... maybe they want me _back."_

Dirk's heart lurched unpleasantly. "Do you... _want_ them to want you back?"

It was time for the Confused Brows to make an appearance. "Yes. No, I... Maybe? I, I dunno."

"Brilliant, that narrows it down."

"Look, Dirk, we'll talk about this later," said Todd, shaking his head like he was trying to dislodge a stubborn thought. "I've gotta go, that bar's nearly thirty minutes away I'm gonna be-"

"Todd," said Dirk, as firmly as he could manage given that he still felt like a rug had been pulled out from under him. "Todd, I really think you should just stop and think _rationally_ about this before you go _charging_ in!"

Perhaps he should have foreseen the incredulous look that statement would earn. "Seriously? _You_ are telling _me_ not to go charging into stuff? Are you crazy?"

"I'm just..." Dirk could feel his head twitch. Could feel his face and fingers itching to move, too; nervous tension was building up inside him, fighting for a release and he had to deny it because this was _important,_ and possibly life-changing and if Todd saw him doing something 'flamboyant' he might not take what he had to say seriously. "...being cautious."

 _"Cautious?"_ Todd laughed humourlessly, voice not-so-gradually raising. "Dirk, we literally _broke into_ a lab and _stole_ a _dog_ , like, two days ago- I think caution's been off the table a while."

"It's not stealing if you're stealing back a stolen thing- we agreed!" Dirk defended- and to _hell_ with keeping still because his hands were up and gesturing before he could stop them. "And at _worst_ we were risking a little stint in prison! Small potatoes in the grand scheme of things, but _this-_ not to be overdramatic, but we could be looking at _devastating emotional consequences._ I mean, what'll you do if they _don't_ want you back?"

"I'll _deal with it."_

"And what if they _do?"_ Dirk pressed, insisting even as Todd turned his gaze down to avoid looking at him. "What makes you think they won't just turn round and drop you again as soon as they get the chance?"

"I-I don't know, but I've gotta try, I've-"

"Todd, you barely even _like_ these people! _Why_ are you so insistent on-?"

"Because this could be my chance to get my _life_ back, okay?!"

Time, for once, ground to a halt.

…He didn't like it.

"Todd," he said, blinking, barely trusting himself to speak; he could feel something sad and dreadful twisting in his stomach and filling his lungs, threatening to bleed into his voice. "You- you _have_ a life, you..."

"I mean- I mean the life I had before-" he met Dirk's gaze finally, choking off his words before they could all come out but Dirk could see them in his eyes and he wished he couldn't.

_Before you._

Oh. So _that's_ what a harpoon through the chest felt like.

"...Look, Dirk, I-I gotta go," said Todd, barely above a whisper. "We'll- we'll talk later, I just... I'm sorry, I have to..."

Dirk, rendered speechless, didn’t argue a second time.

He watched as Todd grabbed his keys from the coffee table. Watched as he all but ran to the front door with his head bowed and his fists clenched.

Watched as he left the flat, left _Dirk_ behind, without stopping to say goodbye.

As soon as he was gone, time seemed to restart. The TV droned quietly on, Jaws mewled for attention. Rapunzel nosed at his limply dangling hand with a whimper and the clock, uncaring and ultimately unaffected, ticked on relentlessly, seconds slipping away like coins in a slot machine. And Dirk, Dirk just...

Dirk just stood there, watching the space where Todd had been- where Todd _should_ be- with the tick-tock of that bloody clock reverberating in his eardrums, and wondered how everything could go so horribly, _horribly_ wrong in just six and a half minutes.

And then he wondered why he was even surprised.

 

* * *

 

**21 ¼ Minutes Later**

 

Todd regretted what he said before he’d even said it.

But that didn’t stop him saying it, and now the damage was done.

Story of his fucking life.

He kept his head bowed as he walked, cheeks burning with shame and frustration. He didn’t mean it to come out like that. He didn’t know _what_ he meant it to come out like, he just… he was just trying to be honest. Yeah. Fucking crazy.

Dirk… Dirk was his friend. Yeah, sure, he could admit that now. And he’d been a _good_ friend, when Todd didn’t have too many to spare and he was grateful, but… but this wasn’t _about_ Dirk, or any of them, this was just…

This was about him- about what _he_ had to do, for himself.

Because, well… what was he doing with his life? What _had_ he been doing, ever since the Mexican Funeral gave him the boot? He’d been… he’d been going to his crappy dead-end job, putting up with his douchebag boss and his coked-up rages, hoping one of them didn’t get him fired. Coming straight home and playing dumb games with his roommate, never leaving the safety of the apartment. Living a lie for the sake of their landlady, never dating anyone else because it could blow their cover- and he was too much of a lazy coward to go _looking,_ anyway. Writing songs he was never gonna play because he didn’t have a band, _or_ the guts to try and make it on his own.

God, he could bitch and moan about the band all he wanted, but like it or not they were just about the only thing that ever gave his life some stupid meaning and without them he was just… drifting.

Maybe Dirk could live like that, but he wasn’t sure he could.

He was about five minutes from the bar when his phone rang.

It kinda freaked him out for a second. It could be Dirk, crying down the phone ‘cause he’d looked like he was on the verge of tears when he left. Could be Sean, calling to say it was all a mistake, don’t bother coming and you’re still dead to us. He only calmed down a little when he checked the screen and saw it was none of the above. “Hey, Farah,” he answered, hurrying to catch the crosswalk light while it was green. “Sorry, I can’t talk now, I’m-“

“On your way to meet the band.”

He almost tripped on the curb. “Wha-? _Yeah,_ how did you-?”

“Dirk called me.”

 _Shit._ Of course he did. “Farah, I- I don’t know what he’s said to you but I _swear,_ I’m gonna apologise to him later I just gotta go do this thing fir-“

“Todd, what are you doing?”

He frowned, slowing his step a little. “I… what d’you mean?”

“I mean- w- _why_ are you going to meet them?”

“Uh, well, Sean called and asked to talk and I thought…”

“What?” Her voice was tight, like she was keeping a lid on a lot of emotions. “You thought _what?”_

“I… thought maybe he was gonna ask me to, y’know…”

Her sigh rattled down the line. “Todd, why do even _want_ that?”

“C’mon, Farah, they’re- they’re _the band,_ y’know? We’ve been through a lot together, I- of _course_ I wanna try and work things out.”

“ _Okay,_ I get it, you guys- you guys go back a while, I know, but… Todd, they _kicked you out._ You were _homeless_ because of them, like, literally four months ago!”

“Farah, you don’t know everything that was-“

 _“I know enough._ I, I _get_ that they had their reasons, okay? But Todd, they’ve cut you out before- what makes you think they won’t do it again?”

She was the second person to tell him that today, and he could feel the weight of the truth behind her concerns lying heavy like a stone on his chest, but… “I… I don’t know. You’re right, maybe they will, but- I have to _try.”_

"Todd," she said, voice softening like she was trying to talk him down off a ledge. "Please, just... just go home, okay? Talk to Dirk about it, he's - he's worried about you."

Of _all_ the damn things she could’ve said to get him to turn back. “Christ, Farah, he’s not my fucking boyfriend- what, he’s got you _checking in_ on me now, huh?”

“N-no, that’s not-“

“No, no, I don’t wanna hear it!” He could hear his voice rising along with his ire, and a distant part of his brain told him he should reign it in but- “What I do is _none of his business._ It’s cute that you guys are such _buddies_ now but if he has something to say he can call me himself!”

“Todd, c’mon, you _know_ he didn’t ask me to-“

“Do I?” he said coldly, squeezing the phone so hard his knuckles whitened.

“Todd, you’re being paranoid,” she said- which was fucking _rich,_ coming from her. “And Dirk has a right to know what’s going on, okay? He lives in that apartment too, he needs to know if he’s gonna be paying the rent alone soon.”

“And as soon as _I_ know, I’ll tell him, but right now I gotta-“

“Okay, you know what, I am t- _trying_ to be nice here, Todd,” she snapped. “But obviously you need me to spell it out, so here it goes: do _not._ Just- just _throw away_ everything you’ve got just ‘cause you wanna crawl back to your comfort zone, okay? Because Dirk might not be there to pick you up off the floor when they drop you again.”

The force of her diatribe actually stopped him in his tracks. “Farah-“

“Good luck, Todd. I hope you figure out what you want.”

And she hung up.

Todd could do nothing but stand, frozen, the echo of her voice in his mind leaving him with the phone to his ear and his jaw on the floor.

“Todd!”

 _That_ voice made him scramble to pick it up. “Oh, uh,” he fumbled, hastily lowering his hand. “Hi, Sean.” Shit. He didn’t even realise he was standing outside the bar already.

Sean strolled up to him, unhurried and with a dimple-cheeked smile, patting him on the shoulder. “Hey. Nice to see you, man- lookin’ good!”

He was still too stunned from the phone call to even panic right away. “Uh, thanks- you too.”

“So, are we gonna, uh-?” Sean jerked his thumb towards the building.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, sure.”

Todd stepped aside to let Sean go in first, taking the brief moment while his back was turned to pull himself together a little. He looked down at the phone in his hand.

He scowled, put it in his pocket, and followed Sean into the bar.

Farah could think whatever the hell she liked.

 _He_ knew what he wanted.

 

* * *

 

**Meanwhile, On The (Very Uncomfy) Ridgely Steps**

 

“I’m sorry, Dirk, I couldn’t-“

“It’s alright, Farah,” said Dirk glumly, even though it really wasn’t in the slightest. But most of life was pretending things were alright that weren’t. Like pretending that he wasn’t developing a minor infatuation with his best friend who was possibly about to leave for good. Or pretending that sitting on this stone step _wasn’t_ making his arse ache. “Suppose it was a long shot. Thanks for trying.”

“Swear to God, Dirk, I’d go drag him back myself if I…”

“You’ve got a lot on your plate, I know.” He mustered up a weak smile even though she couldn’t see it over the phone; it felt important to try. “When’s Lydia arriving?”

“Soon.” He heard her nervous intake of breath. “First time she’s stayed with Patrick for longer than a weekend, but she’s old enough to choose who she wants to live with now, so…”

“Well, that’s nice,” he said, voice just a tad too glum to be convincing. He kicked a pebble off the steps dejectedly. “She can get to know her father at last, I suppose.”

“Yeah… Yeah, it’s… it’s great.”

“Are you…” He frowned, forehead wrinkling in thought. _“Upset?_ That she’s coming to stay?”

“No! N-no, not at all, no, I just…” She sighed heavily into the phone. “I, I don’t really _know_ her, y’know? I can count on _one hand_ the times she’s visited since I started working for Patrick and I don’t… we’ve never really, I-I mean, what if she doesn’t… _like_ me?”

“Farah,” Dirk scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Of _course_ she’ll like you. You’re an _incredible_ person!”

“Oh, um… t-thanks.”

“Besides, teenagers like… _guns_ and things, don’t they?”

“I… I don’t know, I guess…?”

“Well, there you go! Show her your collection, teach her a few of those Crab Magic moves-“

“Krav Maga.”

“She’ll love it! You’ll have a fan for life.”

She snorted, but only softly. It sounded a little more fond than mocking, he thought, but he couldn’t always tell. “Yeah, I’ll- I’ll try that. Thanks, Dirk- I’m _so_ sorry, about Todd, he’s…“ She cut herself off as a distant tinny voice announced something indistinguishable. _“Shit._ That’s Lydia’s flight. Sorry, Dirk, I’ve gotta-“

“Don’t worry, Farah. I’ll be alright.” He smiled a little harder, hoping he could make it truer. “I’m sure it’ll all turn out alright.”

He hung up before she could call him out on his bald-faced fib. He tapped the edge of his phone lightly against the step, rattling out his agitation. There was really no reason he had to come outside for a phone call, but he’d felt the need to distance himself from the flat a bit. Looking at all of his and Todd’s things, jumbled together in the happy chaos of the place, it felt a little too much like sensory overload at the moment.

He wondered if Amanda would let him stay if Todd ‘dumped’ him.

Not that he’d really _want_ to stay there with no Todd, but… well, it was either that or move back in with-

_SccreeeeEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCHH!_

He clamped his hands over his ears against the ear-piercing din, and watched wide-eyed as a familiar scruffy Ford Corolla swerved onto the street and ‘parked’ itself right against the increasingly dented stop sign in front of the Ridgely.

Bart emerged from the car, along with a puff of smoke and an unhappy grating groan of the engine, and eyed him curiously. “Huh. Okay. Guess I’m hanging with you today.”

Oh, dear. Speak of the devil.

Well. He supposed it was nice to know the universe had no intention of leaving him _utterly_ alone.

He sighed- once his heartrate had slowed to a less concerning gallop- and stood up, brushing dust off his trousers. “Hello, Bart. Why don’t you come…”

But he hesitated. Inviting her up for tea, after all, would mean spending time in the flat.

The flat full of Todd’s things that might not be full of Todd’s things for much longer.

“…Actually, why don’t you just wait here a mo? I think Rapunzel could do with a walk.”

 

* * *

 

**Meanwhile, In A Just-The-Wrong-Side-Of-Seedy Bar**

 

“So,” said Sean between sips of beer. “Where’re you living now?”

 _With the first man I met off the street crazy enough to move in with a total stranger._ “I’ve got a, uh… friend. Just kinda crashing right now, y’know.”

“Yeah, yeah, cool.”

Todd traced lines in the condensation on his glass, trying to look aloof. “How’s, uh- how’s things with Lux?”

Sean hissed through his teeth. “Uh, yeah, they’re… well, not great, honestly.”

It took a lot of effort not to look smug and also fucking overjoyed. “Oh?”

“Yeah, he’s… he’s kind of a handful.”

Todd snorted. “I could’ve told you that when you first picked him up.”

“You did- a _lot.”_

“Yeah, well- maybe if you’d listened we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Heh. You got me there,” Sean laughed, ruffling his sandy blonde hair.

“So… what, is he-“ Todd cleared his throat and looked down, feigning an indifferent shrug- “is he, like, out of the band, or…?”

“Maybe- me and the guys are still talking it out.”

“Right.”

“They, uh,” said Sean, glancing at Todd across the table. “They don’t know I’m here, actually. I didn’t talk to ‘em about it yet, I just… kinda wanted to talk to you first, y’know. Test the water, see if… see if we’re good, so. Are we good?”

“…Yeah,” said Todd, and he wasn’t sure he believed it but he was committed to it. “Yeah, we’re- we’re good.”

“Good,” said Sean with a short nod. He took another sip of beer, considering something. “Cause, uh… if things don’t work out with Lux, and if I can get Billy and Dom on board I’m thinking, y’know. Maybe you could come back.”

Todd’s heart was in his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe.”

“I mean, it’d probably be, like, sort of a trial run first off. So we can get used to each other again, make sure we’re not gonna like, kill each other in our sleep or whatever. But, y’know, I think it could work.”

“Sounds… great.”

“Great.” Sean smiled and whipped his phone out, checking the time. “I’ve gotta get back soon- we’re kinda hoping to make a decision about Lux today. But, uh, I’ll mention it to ‘em and who knows? Hey, you around later?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess-“

“Sweet- well, hey, you wanna come back here tonight? ‘Bout six? I’ll bring the guys along and, y’know, we’ll talk about stuff.”

“Yeah…” Todd glanced around at the bar. They used to come here all the time, but it kinda didn’t feel as familiar as it used to. Not as safe. He didn’t really want to come back and be the only one of them on shaky ground. “Uh, actually, can we meet somewhere else? This place is kinda outta my way.”

“Oh. Uh, sure. Where did you have in mind?”

Where _did_ he have in mind? It’s not like he ever went out places anymore. Only place other than his apartment he’d been for a drink was- “There’s a diner. It’s, like, a twenty minute walk from here or something, hang on-“ he dug out his phone. “I’ll text you the address.”

He was just typing in his passcode when Sean spoke up. “Who’s that?”

“Who’s-oh.”

Right. The lock screen. The picture of Dirk he’d put there months ago when they were just formulating the lie and that he’d never got round to changing for some reason. “That’s just my…”

He looked at the picture, brows drawing together. Looked at Dirk’s grinning face. His hair was a mess, top shirt buttons undone, tie knotted round his head Rambo-style because they’d been trying to artificially create drunken party candid shots. He’d had countless pictures on his phone to choose from, but it was the one that made him laugh the hardest.

It had felt good to laugh.

“…Yeah, he’s- he’s no one. Just this guy I know,” he said, shaking his head and banishing the picture with the last two digits of code. “Must’ve got a hold of my phone sometime…”

He gave Sean the address, and tried to ignore the bad taste the lie left in his mouth.

 

* * *

 

**Several Hours And A LOT Of Walking Later**

 

Dirk, unsurprisingly, lost track of how long they walked- he really _wasn’t_ good at this time business. But Rapunzel didn’t seem to tire easily, and neither did Bart, so he was happy to keep ambling. The longer he could put off confronting an empty flat, the better.

He didn’t even _know_ what he’d do if he went back and the flat _wasn’t_ empty…

“I suppose I can understand him being a tad _nostalgic,_ ” he said, tilting his head back to look at the birds as they flitted across the early evening sky. “But… I never thought he’d actually go _back._ He always seemed so bitter about the whole bloody thing, I assumed he’d want nothing more to do with them.”

He sighed and scooped Rapunzel up as she yipped around his feet. “And even if he _did_ go back I never thought he’d… he said he wanted his life back. As if what we- what _he’s_ been living these last few months doesn’t count. Don’t get me wrong, I know he only moved in with me in the first place because he had nowhere else to turn! But I thought we were past that now, and I thought…”

_I thought we were friends._

The prospect of saying that part out loud was a mite too painful right now.

Bart looked up at him thoughtfully. If she were anyone else, he’d guess she was about to say something insightful and profound that could save his and Todd’s friendship.

But she just roughly shoulder-bumped him in consolation and rumbled: “D’you want me to kill ‘im?”

“That’s your answer to everything.”

She shrugged. “It works.”

He rolled his eyes. “No, Bart. No killing necessary. Honestly, you talk like some kind of _assassin_ sometimes. Wouldn’t fit in terribly well with the day job, would it?” He frowned. “ _Would_ it? You never _do_ talk about what you do for a living- are your hours flexible or-?”

“Hey, guys!”

They both started (well, Dirk did- Bart looked as unbothered as ever) and looked towards the voice. Dirk realised with foreboding that they’d come full circle and rolled up back outside the Ridgely, and Ken was just descending the steps and calling out to them.

“Hi, Ken,” said Bart- looking just a bit _perkier_ than before, unless Dirk was very much mistaken- as Ken jogged up to them.

“Hi. What’re you guys doing?”

“Walking the dog,” said Dirk, bouncing Rapunzel in his arms. “Discussing my potentially doomed fake relationship.”

“What?”

“Frodo’s ditching ‘im,” Bart clarified- a little tactlessly, in Dirk’s opinion.

“Seriously?” Ken asked, looking every bit as confused as Dirk had that very morning, before the minor setback evolved into an outright disaster. “He- he made us _rob a secret lab_ for you, like, two days ago.”

“Yes, he is sending a mixed signal or two,” Dirk agreed unhappily.

“So what, is he moving out?”

Dirk put Rapunzel down so he could better commit to a palms-upraised, full-body shrug. “Who knows? Not Todd, apparently. _Certainly_ not me. Usually I find that rather relaxing, but it is making me just a _tad_ anxious, today.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.” Dirk smiled tightly, fiddling with Rapunzel’s leash. “Well, I hope _you’re_ having a less distressing day, Ken- off somewhere nice?”

“Oh, I was- I was just heading to Living Computers,” he said, zipping up his jacket. “It’s, uh, this museum. I like to go there sometimes, you can use the computers, it’s pretty cool. They’ve got this Atari 400 you can play games on- I mean, it’s pretty bad _,_ but it’s a classic, y’know?”

“…No,” said Bart flatly, looking about as perplexed as Dirk felt.

“I mean, they got other stuff there too- y’know, VR and stuff. It’s pretty cool.”

“Ah. Well, that sounds interesting!” Dirk smiled. It didn’t, in all honesty- but Todd had been _very_ clear about how you were supposed to respond to people talking about their non-interesting interests. “Have fun!”

“You, uh.” Ken slid his hands into his pockets, shoulders lifting. “You guys can tag along, if you want.”

Dirk immediately started flicking through his mental index of excuses. He’d ruled out ‘my house is on fire’ (couldn’t exactly use that on someone who lived in the _same_ house) and ‘I’ve been bitten by a vampire and could turn at any moment’ by the time he realised Ken didn’t really seem to be directing the question at him. His attention, it seemed, was focused primarily on Bart.

_Oh._

Well, that was convenient!

He nudged Bart with his elbow, smirking. “Go on, Bart. Might be interesting!”

Her slack face scrunched up somewhat. “…Huh?”

Ken looked slightly uncomfortable. “I-it’s okay, you don’t have to-“

“Hush, Ken,” said Dirk briskly, nudging Bart again. “Go on. It’ll be fun!”

“Doesn’t sound fun.”

“Well, _obviously_ the computers won’t be,” said Dirk, rolling his eyes. He loved Bart dearly, but she could be a little slow on the uptake. “But I’m sure spending some _quality time with Ken_ will be! Go, go on! Be free!”

“Thought I was s’posed to be, like, comforting you and crap.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive,” he said, a little _less_ briskly. It was nice of her to think of him- he knew it didn’t come naturally. “Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

She gave him one last long, searching look, brows still drawn together. But either something in his eyes or something in the universe said her work here was done because she shrugged and said: “…Okay. Bye, Dirk.”

He gave her a cheery wave as she grabbed Ken’s sleeve and towed him away, apparently not much caring that she had no idea which way the museum was. She’d find it, most likely.

If it was meant to be.

Of course, this now left him alone and standing right in front of the building he’d been avoiding.

Probably not a coincidence.

And then Rapunzel whimpered and tugged him towards it by her leash.

Alright, _alright._ He could take a hint.

 

* * *

 

He didn’t realise how much he was _hoping_ to come home to an empty flat. Not until he got there and found himself disappointed.

Todd was on the couch when he got in, one hand on his face, the other on his phone, peering at it like he was trying to dissect it with his eyes. He didn’t appear to have noticed Dirk’s entrance, and he considered tiptoeing past to his room in an attempt to maintain that state of affairs.

But Rapunzel thoroughly scuppered that plan by flinging herself excitedly into Todd’s arms.

He started, nearly dropping his phone, but he laughed a little when he realised what he was under attack from. “Hey, girl,” he said softly, rubbing her head and looking up. “Hi, Dirk…”

“Todd,” said Dirk, perhaps a little on the formal side.

Todd winced, putting his phone aside. “Look, uh… I’m sorry, about what I said earlier. That was- I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“But…” Dirk swallowed, and he sort of wanted to hug himself around the chest but he settled for clenching his fists by his sides. “But you _did_ mean to say it.”

Todd met his gaze, and he didn’t quite look _happy_ about it, but… “Yeah. I- I guess.”

“Right." He nodded tightly, willing his feet to take him to the kitchen. He needed a cuppa and he needed it _desperately_. "So," he said, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. "How did it go?"

"It... It was okay. I mean, nothing's actually been decided, but I-I'm meeting the whole band in like an hour to, y'know, talk it out."

"That's... nice."

Bloody hell. He didn’t even sound convincing to _himself._

Todd, unsurprisingly, didn't buy it either. "It's- look, Dirk it's not about you, okay?" he said, standing up. "It's just- I had something good with the band, y'know? Before I fucked it up, and- and I just need to do what's right for me."

Dirk looked at him sideways, and his voice came out even more sceptical than before. _“Right.”_

Todd sighed, coming over to lean against the kitchen doorframe. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“You're a terrible liar."

"I'm not-"

"Dirk, you're doing that fucking annoying head-tilt thing, you only do that when you lie."

 _Shit._ “No I don’t.”

_“Dirk.”_

“Alright, fine!” Dirk exclaimed, slamming his mug down and turning to face Todd. “Since you seem to care _now_ what my opinion on the matter is; I think you’re making a mistake.”

“How’d you figure that?”

“I think these people have hurt you before and there’s no reason to think they won’t again.”

“I’m not the _victim_ here, Dirk,” Todd argued, throwing his hands up. “They didn’t just kick me out ‘cause they _felt_ like it- I messed up. Screwed around, got sloppy. That’s on me.”

“Yes, but they didn’t just kick you out of the _band,_ did they?” Dirk insisted. “They kicked you out of the bloody _house_ too, _and_ invited someone you despise to take your place- tell me, what part of _that_ is ‘on you’?”

“Okay- yeah, yeah, they probably could’ve handled it better, but, y’know, so could _I,_ I mean-“

“I think, given the circumstances, that re-joining them would be a _decisive_ step in the _wrong_ direction.”

“And what ‘direction’ is that?”

“ _Your_ direction, Todd! You have a _place_ in the universe, just like everyone- you have a place and a path and you’re abandoning it on _incredibly_ flimsy pretenses.”

“Oh, you wanna talk _flimsy_ ? Okay, well, how about you using _my_ personal problems as another in a long, _long_ line of _flimsy_ excuses not to get out your laptop and _do some work?!”_

Dirk gaped. “I-I am _not_ avoiding work!”

“You are! You fucking are- Jesus, you’re always bugging me about stuff, you wanna throw parties and get dogs and play _Scrabble_ and, and spend four hours fucking _voguing_ in the bathroom mirror!”

“That was _research!”_

“Bullshit! It’s always the same- you’re _incapable_ of sitting still longer than two minutes unless it’s to play fucking peek-a-boo with the kitten!” Todd dropped his hands, glowering. “Admit it, you don’t want me to move out ‘cause then you’ll have one less thing to turn to for a distraction.”

“It’s not about _me,_ Todd!” Dirk snapped. He didn’t mean to raise his voice but _God,_ the tension was racking up in the room and he _just. Couldn’t. Help it._ “Obviously I’d be sad if you moved out, but you’re my _friend._  And I think you’re making a mistake. I think you’re running right back to what’s familiar even though it’s bad for you, just because you’re too _scared_ to strike out on your own and _take control of your life._ And if you’re too stubborn to see it then _someone,_ a friend, _me,_ should point it out to you! This isn’t what you _want!_ ”

“We met _four months ago,_ Dirk, what the hell do _you_ know about what I want?”

“More than you, _apparently!_ Todd, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had-“

“Well, that says more about you than it does about me.”

“And I… I _want_ you to _help yourself._ Do something because it’s what you _want_ , not because it’s _easy_. Because you’ll end up on an easy road to nowhere and you’re _better_ than that. I’m trying to help you!”

“I don’t _need_ your help! I don’t _need_ your goddamn input, okay? You’re not my life coach, you’re not my Gandalf- and I’m _not_ your goddamn _assistant! Or_ your boyfriend, or your _best_ friend, I’m- I’m the _loser_ you found drinking bad coffee in a cheap diner because I was such an asshole to my so-called friends that they cut me loose. That is _it._ I’m my own messed up person, with my own messed up problems, and I think I’m big enough and ugly enough to make my own mistakes!”

_“Well, the band certainly seems to think so!”_

The room fell silent as a church. A church containing an anxious dog and a needy kitten and a television that no one had turned off yet currently playing a Comedy Central _Friends_ marathon and- alright, so maybe it wasn’t all _that_ church-y. But Todd was silent, a fact made more obvious and incongruous by the trappings of sound in the room at large, like somehow they _amplified_ it so the only sound (or non-sound) Dirk could register was the absence of Todd’s voice and it was… disconcerting.

But it didn’t last long. After the absence of Todd’s voice came the presence of his heavy, angry breathing. And after that came the scuff of his shoes on the carpet as he turned on his heel, and the rustle of fabric as he snatched his jacket from the back of the sofa. Then came the clink of his keys, and before he knew it Dirk’s own voice was joining the medley. “Wait, Todd, I didn’t-“

But Todd was done listening. He stormed out the door, shoulders hunched and chin ducked as he left Dirk behind without another word.

For the second time that day.

Dirk sank down to the kitchen floor, feeling his entire being deflate like a punctured balloon as the last vestiges of his anger ebbed away.

Rapunzel nudged his hand and whimpered. Somewhere in the distance, Jaws mewled forlornly.

And still the clock ticked and tocked.

Time was marching on, history was repeating. The seconds were slipping between his fingers and he had the horrible feeling that everything he’d found these last few months- everything they’d _built-_ was soon to follow.

“Well,” he said softly, picking up Rapunzel and cuddling her to his chest. “Here we go again…”

 

**To Be Continued…**


	10. Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: swearing, ableist language (canon-typical), alcohol, smoking, drug use (marijuana), quarter-life crisis angst. REFERENCES TO: sex/masturbation, animal death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go- final chapter!
> 
> Thanks for coming along for the ride my dears <3

**5:48 p.m.**

 

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick._

The clock trudged on, doggedly counting off the seconds as they passed. Five forty-eight. Just twelve minutes until… until whatever was gonna happen happened.

He was, like, ninety-nine percent sure the clock wasn’t even making the noise. But he was more than tense and paranoid enough to fill in the blanks himself.

Todd took a shaky breath, and then a fortifying swig of his terrible coffee.

The bell above the door rang, he whipped round. Just some teens he didn’t know. Obviously- the Mexican Funeral had never been early in their life. Not one of them- himself included.

He turned back, grounding himself, and he was _way_ too keyed up but he couldn’t fight down the anticipation.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick._

Not long now…

 

* * *

 

**5:53 p.m.**

 

It wasn’t the first time Dirk had found himself caught in a heated staring contest with a blank Word document, and he seriously doubted it would be the last.

But Todd was out, and the flat was empty and the kitten and corgi were asleep and he needed to _do_ something with his mind and fingers lest he spiral into madness. And Todd had been so _keen_ to point out his work-avoidance in their little spat, so _obviously_ work was what he would do. Because he was _not_ avoiding it, and could do it whenever he so chose, and clearly now was as good a time as any, so. Yes. Work. Was what he was going to do. Right… _Now._

Nothing Happened.

Shit.

“Come on,” he muttered, glaring at his hands as they hovered ineffectively over the keyboard. “Come on, now, we can do this. Just… just type _a word._ One word. Easy! Lots of words out there.”

Of course, now that he said that, not one of them sprung to mind. But that was alright- he’d just pick a letter instead and hope a word would present itself.

Hmm. Lot of letters on that keyboard.

_Oh, for God’s sake, just bloody plump for one!_

He jabbed his finger at a random key in panic. A lonely ‘f’ appeared on screen. Good start, good start. Now another- oh, actually, no, he’d better just capitalise that first. ‘F’. There, much better. Alright, now another. Couldn’t make words without multiple letters, could you? Very few words comprised of singular letters out there! Perhaps he should have started with one of those, built up gradually to the multiple letter ones. But it was _far_ too late to go back now! Right, next letter… ‘u’. Oh, intriguing! Where was _this_ word going? Right, another, another letter, off the top of his head he wanted to go for… ‘c’! Brilliant! Alright, just one more- a lot of words had four letters, four letter words were perfectly respectable starter words. He just had to pick a letter, _any_ letter. Right, ‘k’, there we go. So, altogether that left him with ‘f-u-c-‘ oh, _fuck._

He groaned, head falling onto the counter.

Oh, bloody hell, this was _hopeless._ Maybe he needed another cuppa. No, a walk! A walk would clear his head- he could take Rapunzel and they could play Frisbee in the park! Oh, and on the way back they could get ice cre- _NO._ No, no, he was _not_ avoiding work. Of course he wasn’t. _Clearly_ Todd was very emotional right now and had no idea what he was saying because Dirk was a lean, mean writing machine who was _above_ distractions like Frisbees and ice cream.

Although he wouldn’t say no to a raspberry ripple-

_NO._

No. He had to… he had to just bloody forge on. He could do this! Honestly, how hard could it be?

…Very, apparently.

He stared blankly at the document, empty save for a solitary ‘Fuck’ in the top left. He highlighted it. Deleted it. Found the totally empty page too daunting and un-deleted it. Changed the font size to 12pt. Then 24pt to give it a tad more gravitas. Then changed the font to Comic Sans (because it’s _fun,_ Todd). Then the colour to yellow. The yellow didn’t show up very well on the white, but he could have sworn that somewhere there was a-ah! There we go, ‘change page colour’, right, what would look good behind yellow? Green? No, orange! But _just_ the right shade of orange- the pre-sets wouldn’t do at all. He dragged the point on the colour mixer around. Bit to the right. Bit left. Bit right. Bit left. Bit- _there!_ Perfect!

…Except he still only had one word. Shit.

He bit his lip, squinted at the single secluded ‘Fuck’ in the corner. Slowly, tentatively hit the space bar. Then ‘m’. Then ‘e’. Full stop.

Seemed about right.

_Bollocks._

An interruption to his despairing inner monologue came in the form of a knock on the door. He frowned, glancing at the clock. Five fifty-seven. Todd wouldn’t be home for a while yet. And he had a key. And he might not even be coming home at all. Christ. Alright, no, that was a problem for later.

Dirk stood up and went to answer, trying to keep the laptop in the back of his awareness- if he forgot about it now it was over, the battle was lost and he might as well just come out and admit that he had no intention of doing any work today.

“Hey!” Amanda grinned when he opened the door on her. She held up her hands, waggling the bottles of wine in them temptingly. “Drink?”

“Actually, I was just-“

Thing is, while his mouth and brain were trying to formulate his excuse, her body had already passed right by him and into the flat and was now scouring his kitchen drawers for a corkscrew.

He glanced between her and the laptop, still open and waiting on the counter. He sighed.

“Well,” he said, closing the door. “I suppose I could do with a bit of a breather.”

 

* * *

 

**5:59 p.m.**

 

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick._

Todd’s fingers drummed restlessly on his jittering knee.

Maybe coffee was a bad idea…

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick._

 

* * *

  

**6:02 p.m.**

 

“What’s up, Dirk?” Amanda asked, pouring him another glass. He’d downed the first one a little faster than he’d intended. But she had a rosy tint to her cheeks that suggested she’d had a few glasses herself already, so it was really only fair. “You seem stressed out.”

“It’s…” he sighed, taking another swig. He didn’t even _like_ wine. “It’s been a long day.”

“Where’s Todd?”

“He’s… out with some friends.”

She nodded slowly, giving him a knowing look. “I, uh… guess you’re not super into those ‘friends’, huh?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, you’re obviously mad he’s hanging out with them,” she said with a shrug and a sip of wine. “Don’t get mad, but I kinda heard you guys yelling through the floor. Don’t worry I wasn't, like, _spying_ on you- I didn’t really hear what you said. Plus, y’know, you’re still here and you guys go _everywhere_ together. Not your scene, right?”

“Yes, something like that.”

“You just, what, you guys into different stuff, or…?”

“No, I just…” he sighed, drumming his fingers on the armrest. “I don’t much approve of the way they treat him, that’s all.”

_Or the way he lets them get away with it._

“You need me to set the Rowdies on someone? ‘Cause they’d probably be down for that.”

“That’s… tempting.” He managed a small, grateful smile. “But I don’t think Todd would be too happy about it.”

“Well, offer’s on the table.” Along with her glass, apparently- she needed both hands free to dig through her pockets for a selection of smoking paraphernalia. Honestly, she and Todd seemed to be having a race for who could fry their lungs the fastest. She was falling behind a bit, mind, on account of her preference for marijuana over tobacco- but she still smoked a _lot_ of it, so it was sort of a hare vs. tortoise situation. If the hare smoked a dozen cigarettes a day and the tortoise was almost permanently hotboxed inside its shell. Hmm. He doubted they’d be telling _that_ story in the primary schools.

She rolled herself a joint as she talked, and he had to pull himself back from his mental tangent a bit. “Surprised you’re hanging out here alone, though. Figured you’d be with Bart or something.”

“Oh, I was. But she’s off somewhere with Ken now.”

Amanda’s eyebrows disappeared into her fringe. “Is, uh… is there something, like, going on with those guys?”

“Undoubtedly. I’m not a hundred percent as to _what,_ at this moment in time.”

“Huh. Well, I sure didn’t see _that_ coming when she crashed into that stop sign,” said Amanda, shaking her head with a smile.

“No, neither did I.”

“Still.” She looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye. “I guess opposites attract, huh?”

 

* * *

 

**6:11 p.m.**

 

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick._

The bell above the door jingled again. Todd turned his head faster than lightning, heart in his mouth.

It was a woman he didn’t know.

He sighed, sagging back into his seat.

It was only eleven minutes.

They’d be here any second.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick._

 

* * *

 

**6:15 p.m.**

 

“I just- I dunno, man, I think it’s so _cute,”_ said Amanda, offering up the lazily smoking joint. “You know, the way you’re looking out for him and, and the way you worry ‘bout each other.”

He frowned, politely waving away the offer- last time he’d tried to calm his nerves with puff he’d not had a brilliant time of it. He was quite paranoid enough already without running the risk of repeating the Squirrel Incident. “Of course I look out for him, he’s my frie- _aaaaaaantastic_ boyfriend. Yes. My boyfriend.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “’Frantastic?’”

“Yes, that’s… that’s how we say it in England; when ‘fantastic’ needs a little more _zest_. Very common linguistic quirk, I think you’ll find. Anyway, he’s very easy to worry about.”

“Well, yeah, I get that but, y’know. The way you guys have each other’s backs, like, through _everything_ , it’s… it’s cool.” She smirked, scratching her cheek with the thumb of her joint-holding hand as the smoke curled delicately in the air. It was the sort of pose that seemed like it should be captured in black and white. “None of the losers I’ve dated would worry ‘bout me like you do. _Or_ steal a dog for me.”

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right…” He trailed off before he could say _man,_ realising it might be a tad presumptuous. “…person?”

She snorted. “Who’d wanna date the hermit?”

“Who’d want to date a homicidal dirt muppet who lives in a car?” Dirk counted, raising his eyebrows.

“I guess. Heh. Good luck, Ken…”

“Point is, I think there’s someone out there for everyone,” said Dirk, scooping up the kitten that was now awake and mewling at his feet. “And _I_ think you’re fantastic- so I’m sure someone else will, too.”

“Just fantastic?” she teased, her puff of laughter catching the smoke and making it billow out like wispy jellyfish. “Don’t I get to be _frantastic,_ too?”

“No, that’s reserved for Todd, I’m afraid.”

She smiled, resting her chin on her hand. “Y’know, I never bought into all that soulmate feel-good crap, but… coming from you it doesn’t sound so crazy.”

Now _there_ was a sentence he didn’t hear directed at him all that often. “Oh?”

“Well, I mean, you and Todd… you’re so _different,_ y’know? Like, he’s all grumpy and down to earth, and you’re all kooky and spiritual or whatever and like… you shouldn’t work, but you do? I dunno, like, you balance each other out and you have fun and you just _work._ I didn’t know two people _could_ just work like that ‘til I met you guys, it’s… dude, it’s so _cool._ It’s just _so_ cool to watch and I’m so glad I get to, like, live with you guys and _hang_ with you guys, and… yeah.”

She grinned, picking up her glass and raising it in a jaunty toast. “So, here’s to you guys I guess- for making a washed-up lil’ punk believe in love again!”

It hit Dirk suddenly, smacking him square between the eyes. A realisation, bitter and blunt and dazzlingly obvious, like a slice of lemon wrapped around a large gold brick.

Their little, harmless white lie had gone too far.

Guilt, sudden and deadly, squeezed his heart like a vice.

“Amanda…” he said, feeling the words clambering up his throat along with his heart. “I- I think there’s something I need to tell you…”

 

* * *

 

**6:24 p.m.**

 

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick._

The bell rang again. Todd whipped round to face it.

Some guy and his kid.

Red-faced, he turned back to his cold coffee. He tapped his fingernails on the sides in time to the rhythm of that damn clock.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick._

 

* * *

 

**6:26 p.m.**

 

“So,” said Amanda, wide-eyed, hands scrunched sadly in the sleeves of her hoodie. “You think you guys are…”

“Breaking up,” Dirk confirmed sadly, not meeting her eyes. “Yes, it’s… it’s possible.”

He couldn’t do it. He looked her in the eye and the words got stuck on his tongue and he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t tell her that he and Todd had been lying since the day they met because they’d been desperate, selfish or just plain oblivious enough not to care. That they’d been _maintaining_ the lie for four months, inadvertently turning their other friends into accomplices because it was easier and less risky than coming clean.

What was it he’d said all that time ago, to Todd when he was having his doubts about their little scheme? Something about everything working out for the best?

God, he really did spout some _bollocks,_ didn’t he?

She sighed, flopping dejectedly back into the couch cushions. “Man, that _sucks.”_

“Yes…”

“Todd must really have some history with this band, huh?” she said glumly, pouring them both another glass of wine. “I mean… you guys seemed so _happy,_ I never would have thought…”

“Me neither,” Dirk sighed, swilling the liquid round the glass and watching the dim light from the window dance across the red. “I thought we were…” Obviously he’d never thought they were actually _together_ but, well, he thought they were at least friends. Possibly more, maybe, given time, not that he’d been getting his hopes up but… “Well. Obviously, I was… mistaken. Reading something into it that was never there, it’s unfortunate, but... yes.”

“I’m sorry, dude,” she said, stumbling up from the couch to envelope him in a tipsy hug. “That sucks _balls.”_

“It’s not over yet, I suppose,” he said, squeezing her round the waist- a little awkwardly, since she was standing and he was sitting and also hadn’t hugged anyone in… well, a long time. It was nice, though. He really should try and do it more often; although finding willing participants was always a struggle. Oh, well. At least he had a cat and a dog for emergency hug requirements, now. And a drunk landlady, apparently. Although given the secret he’d just chickened out of confessing, he felt a little guilty about taking her hugs under false pretenses.

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe he’ll come round,” said Amanda, nodding into his hair. “And if he doesn’t he’s a fucking asshole so, y’know, screw ‘im.”

He managed a little huff of laughter, but another question was weighing on his mind.

After all, that ad in the paper _did_ say ‘professional couple only’.

He felt guilty enough to consider not asking but to be honest, he’d really love a tiny scrap of certainty right now. “If he does… _dump_ me,” he said, stumbling around the word. “Do I- do I have to move out?”

“What? _No!”_ She released him, apparently for the express purpose of punching him in the arm. “No way, man!”

Well, that was a relief. Not for his poor arm, but a relief nonetheless. “Just checking.”

“No,” she said again, flopping back onto the couch. “No, man, I love having you here. Kinda feels like you’ve _always_ been here!”

She raised her glass, grinned, and clinked it against his. “I hope you never leave!”

 

Never leave.

 

_Never leave._

 

_NEVER LEAVE._

 

Dirk wasn’t psychic. He’d said it before and he’d say it again- he was lucky(ish) and intuitive (sort of), he often thought he could pick up the signals of the universe and sometimes even follow them somewhere helpful. But he couldn’t see the future, he couldn’t make predictions or make sense of the world; he was _not_ psychic, and he never had been.

Which really only made the sudden vision of his future that filled his mind along with Amanda’s echoing words all the more disturbing.

He could see it like it was happening right in front of him. Could see the apartment- _this_ apartment- filled with clutter. None of Todd’s, just his. Not an inch of wall space remained, every square centimetre filled with notes and pictures, stuck haphazardly, all the interconnecting strings hanging limp and useless. Unsolved, every bit of it. Crowding in around the room’s sole inhabitant.

He barely recognised himself. Balding, beer-bellied, bespectacled. Dancing in an ungainly shuffle to the tinny beat of S Club 7 from ancient speakers buried somewhere beneath the numerous stacks of old newspapers and back-dated issues of _Cosmo._ Alone in his own little world.

Actually, no, not completely alone- there was Amanda. Similarly weathered, passed out on the sofa beneath some moth-eaten blankets and a considerable amount of empty beer bottles. The kitten was there, too! Although older, _much_ older and… surrounded by seventeen other cats. Alright. That was alright. Cats were good! And look, Rapunzel was still there, although she seemed an awful lot quieter than usual and- wait, why wasn’t she… oh God no, wait, that- on her belly, that was a seam, she was a taxidermy footstool oh God _get out of the fantasy GET OUT-_

Dirk stood up so fast the armchair scraped back. “I NEED TO WORK.”

Amanda stared at him like he’d just announced his intention to run for Galactic President.

“Um… O-kay. Sure, man. Go ahead, I’m not even here.” She yawned and lifted her feet onto the couch, putting her glass aside. “I’m just gonna, like, grab some shut-eye, ‘kay? I’m, uh…” she half-giggled, half-yawned. “I’m, like, checking _out_ right now, so uh. Yeah. Good luck, Dirk!”

“Night, Amanda,” he mumbled. A part of him wished she’d just go back to her own apartment. Then again, seeing her asleep on the couch, in almost the _exact_ position she’d appeared in his horrific vision… well, it was certainly extra incentive.

The rational part of his mind had to admit that what he’d seen wasn’t real. That he was just a little drunk and possibly a little paranoid off Amanda’s smoke and also guilt-ridden and anxious and his mind had simply projected every one of his fears into one handy-dandy Build-A-Nightmare extravaganza.

But it was _just_ realistic enough to terrify the bloody pants off him, nonetheless.

He hastily downed the last of his wine, chucked a nearby hoodie over Amanda, and strode over to the breakfast bar with purpose.

No, it definitely wasn’t the first time he’d been caught in a staring contest with a blank Word document.

But by God, it was going to be the first time he _won_ one!

“Right, you little fiend,” he muttered, sitting down on the barstool and shaking out his hands. “You’re going to do as I bloody well say and you’re going to do it sharpish. You will _not_ make a cat-hoarding spinster out of me!”

He was going to work. And he was going to do something, and- and he was going to stay here _on his own terms,_ and not because he had not the money or motivation to move on, and he was going to hold onto his friends and live his bloody life, case or no case- Todd or no Todd.

Dirk was going to bloody write something today if it was the _last thing he ever did._

...Although hopefully it wouldn’t be.

 

* * *

 

**6:42 p.m.**

 

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick._

The bell rang- and like clockwork, Todd turned to look.

Just the woman from earlier leaving.

He sighed, wilting once more as he turned his eyes to the world outside.

That was when a bus paused in traffic, momentarily darkening the window, and Todd caught his own gaze in the reflection in the glass.

His wide-eyed, hopeful, _desperate_ gaze.

And for once the fucking ticking stopped because time ground to a standstill.

He might as well have dumped ice water over his head.

_"...Fuck."_

"Hey, Todd."

He almost startled right out of his seat. Christ, of course. The one time he _wasn't_ listening for the bell was the one time his band actually walked in. "Oh, uh- hey guys."

"Sup, Todd," said Sean, nodding to the others. Dom and Billy- practically attached at the hip as usual- slid into the opposite side of the booth ( _on Dirk's side,_ his mind supplied unhelpfully), giving him nods and grunts of acknowledgement before diving right into studying the menu. They were already mumbling to each other about ordering dinner or second dinner or whatever when Sean took the space next to Todd.

"So," said Sean, crossing his arms on the table. "Guess we've got a lot to talk about."

Todd gulped. "Yeah... Yeah. I guess we do."

_Tock._

 

* * *

 

**7:00 p.m.**

 

Dirk hit the full stop with a satisfying _click,_ and sat back to admire his handiwork.

It wasn’t exactly elegant. He’d certainly need to dip in and add some punctuation to his formless stream of consciousness, edit down a bit and _maybe_ take out all the _‘who’s avoiding work_ now _, Todd?’_ s scattered through it in brackets. But it was a noble first attempt! He’d managed to write up his findings on that bloody nightclub mystery he’d been tackling for weeks- what’s more, writing about it had actually triggered a brainwave and he was _pret-ty_ sure he’d cracked the case!

All in all, not bad for a thirty minute writing binge fuelled by terror at the looming spectacle of a future mired in uncertainty and missed potential!

No wonder Farah was always so productive- this anxiety thing _really_ got the job done!

A knock on the door startled him out of his self-congratulation. “Dirk? You here?”

Well, look at that- _more_ convenient timing! “Hi, Farah! Door’s open.”

He hurriedly saved his file as she entered- it would be _just_ like him to lose the only writing he’d done in months by forgetting to save it- and then closed his laptop as he stood and stretched out his spine. He really ought to get a proper desk to write at. “Tea?”

“Coffee, please,” she said, walking over to the kitchen with a bemused (and somewhat fond) glance at Amanda where she drunkenly dozed on the sofa.

“Coming right up.” He bustled around, popping the kettle on and retrieving mugs and jars as Farah settled into his recently vacated seat at the breakfast bar. “How did it go? You and Lydia hit it off?”

“Yeah, yeah it was g-good, it was…”

He raised his eyebrow, pouring a few chocolate biscuits out onto a plate. “Really? Because that doesn’t sound like the voice you normally use when things are good. If I had to guess, I’d say you were… _embarrassed?”_

Farah blushed, lending further credence to this embarrassment theory, and rubbed her neck. “Well, uh… I guess I freaked out a tiny bit. She’s- she’s so _young,_ y’know? I haven’t had any contact with teenagers in y- _years,_ and I wanted her to like me, and I… told her I was… _down with the kids.”_

Dirk blinked. “Oh. Is… is that not appropriate?”

“I dunno if _inappropriate’s_ how I’d put it,” she said, drumming her fingers anxiously on the counter. “But, y’know, it was definitely… not _cool._ Guess I had ‘no chill’, as _the kids_ would say. _God,_ when did I get so _old?”_

“You’re not old!” Dirk scoffed, popping the plate down in front of her. She looked like a person in dire need of chocolate. “You’re only… how old are you again?”

“Thirty-one,” she said glumly, picking up a biscuit. She seemed more interested in anxiously crumbling it in her fingers than eating it. “And all my friends are in their twenties. I’m the _mom friend._ God.”

“Oh, don’t be silly- you’re no _mum._ Do you think Todd would go _paintballing_ with his mum?”

“He does, actually- it’s one of the only times he sees her. Once a year, Brotzman Paintball Battle Royale.”

 _“Really?”_ he froze in shock over the screeching kettle. “Fascinating…”

She groaned, giving up on her cookie-crumbling to simply flop her head onto the counter. “Oh, God. I _am_ the mom friend. I’m not even a _cool_ mom.”

“Really?” He picked up the kettle and poured their drinks. “Would an _uncool_ mum help her ‘children' break into a top-secret animal research laboratory and steal a dog without alerting the police?”

She lifted her head, brow furrowed, considering. “Huh…”

“…No, really, would they? I don’t know an awful lot of mums…”

“No, I… I guess they wouldn’t.” She smiled, accepting her coffee with a nod. “Thanks, Dirk.”

“Well, I’m not entirely sure what I said, but I’m glad it helped!” he beamed, clicking his mug against hers. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” she laughed, shaking her head and taking a sip of piping hot coffee. God, her tongue must be as indestructible as the rest of her. “So,” she said, drumming her fingers on her mug. “Did Todd…?”

“Yes, he… he came back. Briefly.”

“And?”

“We shouted at each other.”

“Dirk…”

“Yes, I don’t think either of us handled it terribly well.”

“What were you yelling about?”

“I told him he was making a mistake letting the band lead him on.” He sighed, cupping his mug in both hands against his chest, letting the warmth seep through him. “And he told me I was using him as an excuse to avoid work.”

“Well… _were_ you?”

“No!” He hesitated, and scowled. “Or, well, not _him_ specifically. Admittedly, I was using a lot of _other_ things as excuses not to work, but I’m not anymore. Well, I’m _trying_ not to anymore- and I think I’m off to a good start!”

“Good. That’s, that’s good.” She crossed her arms on the counter. “I’m, uh… I’m sorry Todd yelled at you, though.”

“Well, I did my fair share of shouting too, so-“

“No, but- you’re just trying to _help,_ y’know? And he’s, he’s just- just being a- freaking _idiot,_ I don’t-“ she did that twitchy half-shake thing with her head that she did when she was trying to make sense of something. “I don’t understand why he’s… y’know.”

“Well, he _has_ been sad about the band since we met, I suppose it was inevitable that he’d-“

“No! It _wasn’t,_ he… Okay, maybe I should’ve seen it coming, but I really thought he’d turned a corner, I thought he was _past_ this now. These last few months, he’s…”

She looked at Dirk with a tight, sad smile. “Living here, with you, it’s- it’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him.”

His heart gave a not-unpleasant lurch. "Oh."

It wasn't that he was surprised about Todd being _happy._ Obviously he'd thought so too- they had fun together after all, and Dirk was getting better every day at coaxing smiles out of the man. But to hear that it was so far above average, even by the standards of Todd's oldest friend- to be told that _he_ was in some way responsible for Todd's increased happiness, it was... Slightly overwhelming. Dizzying in the best possible way.

Not that it _solved_ anything, but it was nice to feel validated.

"And I'm just- I'm just so _mad_ that he's gonna throw it all away over those _assholes,”_ Farah continued through gritted teeth.

"Well, yes. Obviously so am I." He shrugged and took a very sad sip of tea. "But I suppose if he's made up his mind, there's not a lot that either of us can-"

 _~I can be_ brown _I can be_ blue _I can be vi-o-let_ _sky_ _~_

He frowned over at the coffee table, and his insistently blaring phone. Odd. Very few people tended to call him, and two of those people were currently in the room. "Hmm. Bear with me..."

Tea abandoned, he walked over to the table, tiptoeing as he passed the sofa- it was probably better to let sleeping dogs, cats and punks lie, after all, seeing as they'd managed to miraculously stay asleep through the brief MIKA explosion.

He picked up the phone, and felt his heart skip once more. "It's Todd."

“Are you gonna…” Farah was probably watching with the utmost curiosity and wariness- that's the impression that he got from her voice, at any rate. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the screen long enough to confirm. “You gonna answer it?”

Strangely enough, he hadn’t actually thought of that. “Oh. Yes, yes, of- yes.” He cleared his throat, jabbed ‘accept’, and held the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“H-hey, Dirk.”

“Todd, hi.” His efforts to act aloof probably weren’t working. “How are you?”

“How- er, good, yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Listen I’m, uh, I’m at the diner right now- you know, the place we met. Do you wanna… do you wanna come meet me? For a coffee? Or, or a cocoa, I know you don’t like- ugh, you know what I mean, just… come over?”

“Well, I _am_ a little busy…”

“Oh.”

“Is, ah…. Is the band still there?”

“No. No, they- they left, few minutes ago.”

“Oh. Well, um…” he turned to Farah, wide-eyed.

She glanced between him and the phone, and nodded.

“…Yes, alright, I could do with a break. I’ll, ah, be along in a mo.”

“Cool. Cool, okay- see you, Dirk.”

“Bye, Todd.”

It took another beat of silence for either of them to hang up, and he wasn’t entirely sure who got there first. He took a ragged breath and looked at Farah again questioningly.

“It’s okay, Dirk,” she said with a nod. “Go talk to him. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on…” she looked over at Rapunzel and Jaws, both happily dozing on Amanda’s belly. “Everyone.”

“Thanks, Farah,” he said softly, seizing his jacket from the armchair. After shrugging it on and pausing a moment, he impulsively darted forward to embrace her in a firm-yet-fleeting hug. “Really, thank you for… everything.”

“Tha-that’s fine, Dirk,” she laughed, awkwardly returning the embrace. Apparently, she was as out of practice with physical contact as he was. “I’m… yeah, I’m happy to help.”

She gently pushed him back, patting his shoulders. “Now go talk some sense into that idiot for me, ‘kay?”

She was a _good_ friend. He realised quite abruptly that he wanted to tell her everything- about his scary future vision, about how he almost told Amanda the truth. Maybe even about his feelings for her oldest friend that he was beginning to suspect were verging on... less than platonic.

But there would be time for all of that later.

“Okay,” he said, straightening out his jacket nervously. “Okay, I’m… I’m going to do _something.”_ He snatched his keys from the counter, dropped them into his pocket along with his phone, and took a deep breath. “Right, yes… here we go!”

Right now, there was somewhere he needed to be. _And_ somewhere he wanted to go.

How nice to have the two be one and the same for a change.

 

* * *

 

**7:14 p.m.**

 

_You know I played your song a thousand times_

_Shaped myself to the beat of your own drum_

_It’s only now you’re gone I can despise_

_The hollow shadow of myself I have become_

_But as thoughts of you fade from view_

_And my cold heart warms and mellows_

_I find I have a new place now that’s bright, and soft,_

_And-_

 

“Is this seat taken?”

Todd looked up from his scrawls on the napkin, smiling as a very familiar jacket assaulted his eyes. “Hey, Yellow,” he said, pushing the second mug over towards him. Hot chocolate, too much whipped cream, with marshmallows. He had no idea if Dirk was feeling ‘frivolous’ today, but he figured it was the least he owed him after… well.

“No need for the pet names, Todd- I didn’t bring Amanda.” He slid into the booth opposite Todd, making an appreciative _ahh-_ ing noise when he picked up his drink. Good call on the marshmallows, then.

“Sorry, forgot.” He watched in amusement as Dirk took a sip of cocoa and wound up with a little cream moustache. “So, uh… how’re you, you… you good?”

Dirk beamed, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Yes, I- I _wrote_ something, actually!”

“Seriously?”

“Yes!” Dirk confirmed, puffing out his chest proudly. “Finally wrote up my findings so far on the nightclub mystery. And I’ve _solved it,_ Todd, it was right under _everyone’s_ noses- the reason no one’s managed to catch those bloody smugglers in the act! _The dancing!”_

“The-what?”

“The dancing! It’s code!” he was bouncing up and down in his seat excitedly, grin as bright as his jacket. “All that voguing! You mentioned that you thought it was weird, so many people doing it in a club like that, and so I looked into it, and I thought about it and I _realised-_ they have inside men on the dance floor! They use certain moves to communicate with their clientele, and warn each other when the authorities are on their way! It’s actually rather brilliant- if a little elaborate and tiring.”

Todd blinked. “Wait, so… the voguing thing really _was_ research?”

“Honestly, Todd, would I lie to you?”

“You lie to me all the time. You lied to me yesterday when you told me you didn’t finish my chips.”

“Now, technically that wasn’t a lie- I didn’t _finish_ them!”

“You don’t get away on a technicality just ‘cause you left behind a single Dorito, Dirk.”

“Agree to disagree,” said Dirk, completely shameless as always. He took another sip of his drink, directing a meaningful look at Todd over the mug. “So… how were the band?”

“Good. They were good,” said Todd quietly, looking down at his hands. “They, uh… they did want me back.”

To his credit, Dirk _did_ try to look happy for him. He failed, but he tried. “Excellent. So, back to band practice on Monday is it?”

“Uh…” Todd drummed his fingers on the table. “Actually, I, uh. I turned them down.”

 _That_ threw Dirk for a loop. He blinked a couple of times, like he was rebooting. “Pardon?”

“Yeah,” said Todd, shrugging. “I dunno, it just… didn’t feel right. I mean, we didn’t exactly part on the best terms, so, yeah.”

Dirk cocked his head. He could clearly sense there was more to the story than that.

Stupid detective.

Todd groaned quietly, turning his head to look out the window. “And… and I guess I kinda realised… something.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I just… I realised how fucking pathetic it was. Just, sitting here waiting for someone to walk through that door and give me my life back. _I know_ , I know, that’s what you guys have been trying to tell me all day, but I guess I just, I just needed to see it for myself. See myself doing it. And I did, I saw it, like… seeing myself at a distance, suddenly, like…”

“Like having an orgasm on your own?”

“…What?”

“Well,” Dirk shrugged like he hadn’t just said the most confusing thing in the history of ever. “You know what it’s like. You’re sitting there, having a rather nice time, getting all hot and bothered from you videos or fanfiction or what-have-you. And everything’s great, and then there’s the big moment which is _fantastic._ But then, just as quickly as that moment, ah, _comes,_ it’s over. And then, you know, you _wake up_. Your heart stops racing and you’re all cold and clammy and very, _very_ alone, trying to close the laptop with one hand, hoping you didn’t ruin your shirt and it’s like-“

Todd had no idea why or how in God’s name he knew exactly what Dirk was getting at. “Like walking in on yourself.”

“Yes, exactly.” Dirk shrugged, popping a marshmallow in his mouth. “And the warm fuzzy feeling fades and you remember what got you there, and you take a look at yourself and think-“

 _“What the fuck are you doing?”_ Todd breathed, laughing hollowly. “Yeah, that’s… that’s literally it. And that’s how I felt, y’know, when I was sat here, watching myself practically fall out of this booth every time the door opened. Just… what the _fuck_ am I even doing? Yeah, I guess… I guess I finally woke up.”

He snorted, and picked up his coffee. “So… yeah, Dirk, thanks for putting my big emotional realization in the most… unnecessarily gross terms possible, I guess.”

“Well, that’s feelings, isn’t it?” said Dirk, with a wry smile. “Load of old wank.”

It wasn’t even that funny, but Todd laughed anyway. Maybe it was just that it was a combination of words he _never_ would have expected out of Dirk’s eloquent mouth. Maybe it was just so fucking good to be talking like this to him again, like roommates.

Like friends.

Dirk laughed too, and grinned, and they both took a swig of their drinks, and for a moment everything was… well, not _light_ exactly, but peaceful.

So of course, Todd had to go and fucking ruin it. As usual.

“It’s weird, right?” he asked rhetorically, kinda wishing he could just tell himself to shut up because they were having a nice moment. “All those stories you get raised on, things they tell you when you’re a kid. How they make you see the world. All those happy endings get you thinking that, that the bad guys always get what’s coming to them, couples and friends always get back together and eventually everything will just work out for the best and we’ll all get back to the ideal status quo and it’s just… _not_ like that. Those kind of endings, they don’t exist, they’re just… a myth. To stop us spiralling when everything goes to shit and we realise life’s just kind of a bitch.”

He sighed, leaning his head on his head, eyes drifting closed. He didn’t wanna believe it, but… well, all he’d ever really cared about was the band. He built his entire _life_ around them, for _years._ And maybe he’d let them have too much hold over him, or maybe he hadn’t appreciated them the way he should have but... it still stung, knowing that chapter of his life was closed for good and really, what else _was_ there for him? He was a twenty-seven year-old college dropout, who worked a crappy job five days a week and spent the other days drinking and smoking too much. He was living a lie- multiple lies, actually, but only one that Dirk knew about- and at the end of the day, there was no one but himself to blame.

He felt something jab his shoulder.

He opened his eyes to find Dirk, hand once again withdrawing from an unsolicited shoulder-poke. “Todd? I’m afraid I must _reject_ that hypothesis in its entirety.”

Todd raised his eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes,” Dirk sniffed, folding his arms on the table. “I mean, think about it. Did you make some mistakes? Yes. Did today work out like you hoped it would? _No._ But when you stop and consider, did it really work out _badly?”_

“Um…”

“Because, from where _I’m_ sitting, it looks like you’re enjoying a nice cup of coffee-“

“It’s still pretty terrible, actually…”

“-in a reasonably well-lit diner, with your flatmate. Who just so happens to be your best friend-“ he looked out the window, cheeks pink and eyes downturned- “or, who considers you to be _his_ best friend, at any rate, and that’s got to count for something. And tonight we’ll be going back to our flat, and we probably won’t go out because we don’t have the money for it but we’ll play Scrabble again, and we may get frustrated and throw the letters at each other until we both doze off on the board, but… but tomorrow we’ll wake up. And yes, we’ll be hungover, and we’ll be achy from having slept on the floor and we’ll have little plastic tiles digging into our skin in uncomfortable places, but it won’t be all bad. Because, you know, at least we _have_ a floor to sleep on.

“The sun will be shining, even if it’s hidden by the clouds, and the world will still be turning and we’ll go about our days, just two leaves in the stream of creation, just living our drab little lives until the next time we can stop for a terrible coffee which will probably- _hopefully-_ be the very same night. And I don’t know about you, but… I think I’ll wake up happy.”

He turned back to meet his gaze, and Todd didn’t like to use the word ‘wisdom’ in conjunction with Dirk Gently too often, but… there wasn’t really another word for the look in his eyes or the words in his mouth. “So tell me, Todd… what _more_ would it take for this scenario to meet your definition of a ‘happy ending’?”

Todd opened his mouth to argue, to list off all the things that were still _wrong,_ his ideas of where he was supposed to be and why he wasn’t getting there.

And found, to his shock, that he really, _really_ couldn’t.

He couldn’t get the words out. Looking at Dirk, open and honest and waiting for Todd to be the same, they felt hollow in his chest.

So he did something else. Something he hadn’t done in… in as long as he could remember.

He let them go.

“Nothing,” he said instead, and it was strange to hear his own voice without the sharp edges. “You’re right. Our lives, I guess… I guess they’re not a _total_ disaster.”

Dirk smiled, straightening up and regarding Todd with open, unabashed warmth.

It… wasn’t the way he was used to people looking at him. It was weird. Like the sunny smiles on the worst Sunday ever- just fucking _weird._

So weird it made his stupid heart skip a beat.

So weird it actually startled him into another moment of emotional openness. “And Dirk? You… You are. My best friend, I mean.”

The look on Dirk’s face, like he was trying not to react and failing, almost made the vulnerability worthwhile. “Well,” he said, head twitching, lips fighting back a grin. “Obviously. Pfft, _I_ could have told you _that,_ Todd!”

“You did,” said Todd, still red-faced but feeling the ache in his cheeks of a smile clawing its way to the surface. “Several times.”

“And I graciously forgive you for being slow on the uptake,” he reached over to give Todd a vaguely condescending pat on the shoulder. Weirdly, he wasn’t mad enough to do anything about it. “But, better late than never and all that!”

Todd snorted, picking up his coffee. “Yeah. All that.”

Dirk picked up his hot chocolate, and raised the cup to Todd’s with a beam. “To our lives; unmitigated _not_ -total disasters that they are!”

“Unmitigated not-total disasters,” Todd laughed, tapping his mug to Dirk’s.

A different sound mingled in the air with the click of their cups. Something crackling over from someplace behind Dirk. He looked over, and spotted the waitress fiddling with the dials on an ancient radio on the counter.

She finally settled on some crackly [rock](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_4ufENlx4Kc), turning the volume up almost all the way. It was pretty deserted in the diner right now, so there was hardly anyone besides them to complain.

And Todd didn’t really want to complain, anyway.

“Oh, hey,” he grinned, tapping his foot to the beat. “Great song.”

Dirk cocked his head, listening with interest. “Have you played this round the flat? Doesn’t sound familiar…”

“No, it’s- it’s Huey Lewis and the News,” said Todd, smiling into his coffee. “Guess I don’t listen to ‘em much anymore, but Dad had this song on 7-inch, so…”

“Ah,” said Dirk, smiling as his own toes started to tap to the beat. “I like it!”

And then he was standing up, fingers clicking in time with the music (kind of), and holding his hand out to Todd.

“…What are you doing?”

“Dancing! We have to dance!”

“You wanna dance?”

“Yes!”

“…Right here, in the middle of this diner?”

“Yes!”

“… _Now?”_

“No time like the present!” He extended his hand further. “Come on, Todd- what have you got to lose?”

…Well. He kind of had a point.

And he also had that gleam in his eye again- the one that said the idea had taken root in his head. Which pretty much meant there was only one sure-fire way to get it out.

Todd rolled his eyes, and took Dirk’s hand.

 

* * *

 

Bart didn’t understand half of what Ken was saying. Less than half, actually. Like, maybe ten percent.

But he was saying it and, like, you could tell that he meant it. And he cared about it.

She didn’t care about computers or robots or artificial-whatever, didn’t really care what was what or what worked better or what didn’t, didn’t know the difference between this thing and that thing and wouldn’t ever, probably.

But it was pretty cool that Ken did.

And it was pretty cool that he was tryna tell her about it, too, and not just laughing at her for not getting it.

He was a pretty cool person.

They weren’t looking at computers anymore. Now they were at his place, and she didn’t normally like sitting still and doing nothing but the TV was on and it was playing something that he kept laughing at, and she could see his mouth moving with the words sometimes like he knew what they were gonna say before they said it, and it was… it was pretty amazing. It was kinda cool that she got to see it.

Kinda felt like she was where she was supposed to be right now.

 

* * *

 

The radio was broken, no music. But his boys didn’t need no music to dance- they had enough music in their bones to do the trick just right.

Martin sat back, watched Vogel tread sprightly feet across the concrete. Watched Cross come scoop him up under one arm, swing him round. Watched Gripps tackle right into both of ‘em, send ‘em rolling cross the ground like tumbleweeds.

He looked out over the rooftop, out to the sunset. Felt it burning warm and orange on his skin like a campfire, listened to the others wrestling like rowdy pups.

Martin didn’t need no music either.

His boys’ laughing was music enough.

 

* * *

 

_From: Patrick_

_Thanks for helping Lydia get settled in today- she won’t stop talking about you!_

 

 

Farah put the phone down, slowly, smiling to herself as she did so.

The kitten nuzzled her hand and mewled. She put aside her gun and cleaning cloth to pick it up and hold it to her chest, where it purred contentedly into her collarbone.

She glanced to the side, to the couch she was leaning against. To Amanda’s sleeping face. She was drooling on the cushions a little bit. Her hair was a mess.

Farah shifted the kitten to one hand, and gently reached out to tuck her jacket and Todd’s hoodie in closer around Amanda’s exposed neck and shoulders. She pushed some flyaway hair behind her ear, hand lingering there as Amanda’s lips turned up in a sleepy smile. Kinda looked like she’d be purring, too, if she could.

Yeah. Maybe the Mom Friend wasn’t such a bad thing to be.

 

* * *

 

They got off to a bumpy start, full of disagreements _(“No, Dirk, you don’t get to lead just ‘cause you’re taller!”_ ) and missteps. But that was kinda nice, at first. No one really leading, just sort of meandering along together, muddling through.

Until Dirk stepped on his foot for the fifth time. Then Todd figured he should stop fucking around and take a lead on this thing.

It didn’t feel as weird as he thought it would. Dancing in the middle of the diner, all eyes on them. At least they weren’t _crying_ in the middle of the diner this time. Also there were, like, three pairs of eyes total and one of them belonged to a waitress who was obviously not being paid enough to try and stop them. It was a pretty fucking bizarre situation. And it was more bizarre because it didn’t _feel_ bizarre, at all, it just felt… natural. Clumsy but natural. Just like them.

But he guessed that was just the Dirk Gently Effect.

He looked at his hand, surrounded by luminous yellow where it lay on Dirk’s shoulder, and smiled to himself.

If anyone had told him four months ago that this would be his life now, he’d have figured they were as insane as his new friend in the yellow jacket. That version of him, the washed-out, washed-up loser, downing his awful coffee and tuning out the annoying Brit encroaching on his wallowing time, would never have even considered the possibility that the worst Sunday of his life could ever lead to… _this_.

Well. Honestly, he still _was_ most of those things. A washed-up, washed-out loser, downing awful coffee (although he spent a lot less time tuning out the annoying Brit).

But now the Worst Sunday Ever was long gone, and here they were. Hands clasped, dancing to crackly eighties pop rock on the radio, that same crappy diner consigned to a backdrop. Yellow Jacket was here and he had a name, and a story, and a room in Todd’s house and a space in his life. And together they were Dirk and Todd; flatmates, best friends, boyfriends (depending on who you asked). They had a dog, and a cat, and a bunch of weird friends who’d do anything for them- even tag along on risky dog rescue missions, or take a bullet (well, a paintball) in the chest.

It wasn’t a _happy ending_ , exactly. ‘Cause it wasn’t really an _ending,_ it was… he’d closed the book on a chapter of his life, for better or worse, and now…

Now it kinda felt like the start of a new story.

He couldn’t wait to see what weird shit this one would throw at him.

 

**The End**

**(Of The Beginning)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there we have it!
> 
> God, I've been working on this so long now it's gonna be fuckin weird NOT working on it. I mean I'll be working on the sequels but y'know, different thing! This fic's been my baby for the last three months, y'know?
> 
> Speaking of sequels, currently installments in this series I have planned are:  
> -The next two main parts (main story is a trilogy)  
> -Some little character backstories for Farah, Amanda etc- all the folks who didn't really get enough time to shine yet!  
> -One silly, self-indulgent (and possibly slightly smutty) AU of Dirk and Todd's first meeting- basically, the story they told Amanda (house party, drunkenness, romantic three days in Seattle, that lot!)  
> And that's it so far but you never know!
> 
> I'm also making some silly little extras like playlists- like [Dirk's party mix](https://open.spotify.com/user/lilyenrenn/playlist/4n2BGxJyVD2E86NEvFLplN) which I linked you to earlier, and also a general mix of [songs that inspired the series](https://open.spotify.com/user/lilyenrenn/playlist/3A7mBXqR4EJxeElKMGzhhq) (including the namesake song by Oasis) if you wanna check those out!
> 
> I really, REALLY hope you enjoyed the ride- part two's gonna be way more eventful! There's a lot of secrets gonna come out, a lot of feelings gonna be discovered. Part two's gonna be the longest in the trilogy without a doubt! I won't post any til I've got a few chapters under my belt though- I'd rather not leave you on two-month cliffhangers if I can help it!
> 
> Anyway, thank you SO MUCH for reading- if you liked it maybe leave us a comment saying what you liked about it and I'll be sure to keep that up second time round! 
> 
> And once again, BIG thanks to BEARAIIN for the AMAZING ART!!! You're a STAR!! :D
> 
> Thanks everyone! Until next time! <3


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